Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The low buzz of electronics threaded through Akechi’s ears and groaned like the dead inside his brain. He groaned in kind, rolled his head on his pillow, and lifted one arm to try to block the invasive sound. Immediately, he regretted it. His body felt as battered and wrung-out as old laundry.

“Good, you’re awake,” a familiar voice said from close by.

Resentment bubbled up inside Akechi in time with the pounding at the sides of his skull, and he squinted against the low, artificial light just so he could glare up at the voice’s source.

Ren gazed down at him, expression unperturbed despite the knock-down, drag-out battle to the almost-death he’d had with him and his friends just last… night? Was it last night? How long had he been asleep?

Where was he, anyway?

“Take it easy,” Ren added when Akechi struggled to push himself upright from a cot; he reached out to help him up, and Akechi’s feeble attempts to swat him away did nothing to dissuade him.

Once he was sitting upright, Akechi took a moment to take stock of himself. He wore a bathrobe-like hospital gown over a bare chest and, thank god, his school uniform slacks. He rested on a simple bed, more like a spacious cot, with his head on a pill-shaped pillow and paper-thin sheets draped on top. The wall to his immediate left had a bulletin board draped in posters. Heavy green curtains cloaked the wall behind his head, and an IV pack dangled from a metal pole.

Past Ren, who sat on a stool, there was a cluttered desk with a computer and a model of several spinal segments on it, a rotating chair, and an LED screen attached directly to the wall behind the computer monitor. The screen displayed a set of X-rays; nothing about them seemed unusual. To the desk’s left was a small storage rack, and the wall behind it also displayed several posters and prints, most if not all of them about health. There was also a calendar, which still showed December, but since the days weren’t crossed out, that told him little beyond that he hadn’t been unconscious for more than a month. To the desk’s right was a storage cabinet on which rested a printer and several books and binders, and next to that was another IV pole. A plastic bin peeked out from under the bed; the rest of his uniform laid inside, folded neatly, with his shoes and socks lined up on the floor next to it.

“We’re at a clinic near Leblanc,” Ren said again, answering one of Akechi’s unspoken questions. He turned his glare back at him, but Ren was no more fazed than before. “A friend of mine runs the place. She let us drop you off here for the night.”

Akechi rubbed his temples in a feeble attempt to stave off the pain. Another friend of Ren’s. Naturally. But—yes, that was right… It was starting to come back to him now. In Shido’s Palace, he’d fought with everything he had and more against the Phantom Thieves in the name of protecting the man he hated most. His cognitive double had gotten the jump on all of them, Akechi had shot the emergency shutter button, and Ren…

Almost as if he’d known what would happen, Ren—Joker—had grabbed him and pulled him to the other side just before the shutters had slammed down and cut off the cognitive Akechi.

At that point, he’d passed out, so his memories came in tiny, disconnected shreds from when he swam in and out of consciousness. He gathered they’d dragged him outside, where he’d been in no condition to protest, much less struggle. And they’d brought him to Yongen-Jaya, and caught a woman as she’d been locking up, and…

“Why did you bother?” he asked. His voice crackled from dryness. God, he needed water. Water and painkillers, or else this headache was going to be the death of him.

As if answering his silent prayer, Ren took a paper cup of water from the desk and handed it to him. “We weren’t going to leave you to die.”

Akechi made a face, but sipped it down anyway. After letting his thoughts churn and clear, he frowned at him. “‘For the night,’ you said?”

He nodded. “I came in this morning to check on you. Dr. Takemi says, based on a cursory examination, it doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with you aside from severe exhaustion.” He quirked a half-smile. “The wonders of healing magic. Even if it was just the dregs after all that.”

That explained a lot. “And here I thought you were going to make a jab about appearances being deceiving.”

“I considered it.”

Akechi rubbed his temples again, this time easing his knees up to be an elbow-rest. It had only been one night since that battle, then. Despite losing, he’d at least run the Phantom Thieves ragged, made them have to retreat. His cognitive double would be on the alert, too… Ha. Ha ha ha ha. How stupid of him to worry. Of course Shido would have his own defense mechanisms in case of mental intruders. He knew better than anyone what his personal assassin could do.

Those thoughts worsened his mood. He crumpled the empty paper cup in a fist. “Now what, then?” he said, clipped. “You know I won’t just let you steal his Treasure.”

“You’re not in a position to stop us.”

Fear lanced through him, both slick and icy. He grabbed Ren by the lapels of his hoodie and dragged him closer. “Don’t you dare—” he began, and then rasped in pain as the tempo of his throbbing headache ramped into a rave. He panted for breath as cold sweat dotted his forehead, while Ren wrapped gentle arms around his shoulders. That only made him angrier. He leaned back just enough to glare murder at him.

“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” he hissed.

Ren smiled back. He looked like he was enjoying himself, damn him. “Unlikely.”

Akechi grit his teeth. But his head swam, so he bowed it on Ren’s shoulder, hating him the whole while. Ren stroked his back for a moment in a way that was not soothing, damn him all the way to hell, before easing him down onto the cot.

“Looks like you still need time to rest. But you’ll live.” He paused a beat. “I’m glad.”

His head hurt so bad. “Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you glad?”

“Because I don’t want you to die.”

“Why?”

The two stared each other down for what felt like an eternity. Though Akechi had had no intention of backing down, he lost the staring contest first when a pulse from his headache made him grimace. Ren rested a hand on his head for a second; then he stood up.

“I’ll get Dr. Takemi for you,” he said. “She’ll keep an eye on you for now. Let her know what you need, but don’t cause her any trouble, okay?”

“Wait,” Akechi uttered, scrambling back upright, and headache be damned. He had one leg slung off the side of the cot before Ren leaned forward to grab him by the shoulders and stop him. Akechi grabbed him back by the wrists.

“You’re going back to his Palace, aren’t you? Take me with you,” he pleaded, dispensing with all pretense. “If I can’t stop you, I want to at least see things through to the end.” And, because he knew his rival held all the cards, he swallowed his pride and finished: “Please.”

Ren stared into his eyes. Even from this close up, they were so dark it was like staring into the starless night sky. Akechi couldn’t read a single thought of his at all. Then, with gentle implacability, Ren pressed him back down.

“Rest now,” he murmured. “We’ll talk about the Palace tomorrow.”

Akechi struggled at first, but after a certain threshold, his body sank down of its own accord as if dragged down under the sea. Bone tired: that was the phrase that bubbled up to mind. He didn’t have the strength to keep resisting. A compromise, a delay, would have to do.

“Fine,” he murmured back, and shut his eyes.

He listened to rubber on tile, to quiet footsteps, to the subtle squeak of an opening door. It yawned close to shut but didn’t quite click, so he could hear the conversation on the other side.

“So how’s he doing, my little guinea pig?”

“Fine. Ish. Fine-ish. He needs some painkillers, I think.”

A sigh. It had a good-natured ring to it. “And now the drugs? You’d better hope he has his insurance card on him.”

Ren sounded amused. “If not, I’ll owe you one.”

A chuckle. “Don’t bother. I’m the one who owes you. By the way...”

“Hm?” A second of silence. Then, with happy surprise: “Haru! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. When did you get here?”

“It’s all right. And not too long ago, so don’t worry,” Haru reassured him. Akechi could hear her smile, just as he could hear its absence when she continued, “So if he needs painkillers, does that mean…?”

“Yeah. He’s awake.”

A small, displeased sound. For all that they’d chimed in with Ren to try to talk him down last night, Akechi expected all of the Phantom Thieves disliked him now, if they’d ever liked him in the first place. Haru, though, had especially strong reason to hope he’d sleep forever. He wondered why she was here in the first place. She spoke again, but this time with voice lowered; he couldn’t catch the next piece of conversation between her and Ren.

It didn’t last long. He snagged a fragment of the doctor’s voice before the door opened again. “...just lucky I don’t have any appointments for today,” Dr. Takemi was saying; he peered at her to see her balancing a tray with pills and a tall glass of water on one arm as she looked over her shoulder at Ren. “I can let him crash here one more night, but after that...”

“That’s fine,” Ren said at her back. Haru, next to him, didn’t look happy, but she kept her mouth shut. “Thanks for everything.”

She chuckled and turned. Ren and Haru followed her inside, and she made no effort to stop them, opting instead to cross the room and set the tray down on the stool still at his bedside.

“So you’re Goro Akechi, hmm?” Dr. Takemi said, hands in her lab coat. He recognized her bob-cut hair and little black dress; she was a fellow patron of Café Leblanc, though they’d never spoken before. “Never thought I’d meet the infamous celebrity detective like this.”

He rolled his head to one side. The tray had two large pills, each a different shape and color. He grabbed them both and eased himself up enough to pick up the glass with them. “‘Infamous’ makes it sound like you think it’s a bad thing,” he noted before swallowing them down.

“I’m not fond of the limelight,” she replied, shrugging. “Since you’re up, mind if I ask a few questions about your condition?”

Letting the doctor do what she needed to was probably wise, but… Akechi glanced over at Ren and Haru, who were watching in silence. “Amamiya.”

“Hmm?”

“You still haven’t answered my question from before.”

“Question?”

“About why you saved me.”

Ren shared a glance with Haru, then with Dr. Takemi. The doctor stepped back and to the side.

“Later, then,” she concluded. “Don’t keep him up too long.”

Ren nodded. Once the door shut behind her, he looked back at him in thoughtful silence.

Haru, meanwhile, had folded her arms, still frowning. “Why is it so difficult for you to understand why he would do such a thing?”

Akechi frowned back. Those drugs were a wonder; his pain was already starting to abate. That made it easier for him to form his argument. “Shido’s cognitive version of me had us all dead to rights. It would’ve been easier and safer for you to let things run their course. If you’d been a second slower, you would’ve been trapped on the wrong side of the flood gate and ended up dead.”

As dead as I was supposed to be, he didn’t add, but in the pause that followed, he could feel the words floating like dust motes in the air between them. He wondered if Ren and Haru could feel them too.

But Ren shrugged. “Leaving you to die just isn’t my idea of justice.”

“You had no way of knowing a flood gate would drop after I shot that button,” he insisted. Letting him get away with such a glib answer rubbed him the wrong way.

“I had an inkling.”

“You expect me to believe you risked your life based on an inkling?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say… It’s the truth.”

He pounded a fist on the cot in frustration. “Don’t be ridiculous!! Nobody would’ve blamed you if you’d done nothing! Why did you go out of your way to do something you didn’t have to?! That nobody asked you to do?!”

Ren looked at him with those thoughtful, piercing eyes he hated in particular. Whenever he looked like that, he felt like he was about to see clear through him.

Like so: “Akechi. Did you want to die?”

He opened his mouth, then shut it, perturbed. Even though he’d predicted it, Ren had still caught him off-balance. How did he always… He shook his head to rally himself and stammered, “N-no, that’s—”

Haru cleared her throat, silencing him, and rested a hand on Ren’s shoulder. “Ren, may I?” When he nodded her on, she took a step forward and met Akechi’s stare, hands folded primly in front of her. “Excuse me for butting in, Akechi-kun, but I think I can explain this in a way you’ll understand.”

His frown deepened. Still, he said, “...Go ahead.”

“After I joined the Phantom Thieves, Ann and Makoto filled me in on the previous cases, all the way to Mr. Kamoshida,” she said. “I was particularly interested in that first case, because that was when everything about the Phantom Thieves was established. Ann, Ren, Mona-chan, and Ryuji weren’t concerned with fame or anything like that; they sought nothing more than justice against an arrogant tyrant who had hurt one of their friends, was hurting our entire school, and threatened to do even worse if left unchecked.”

“I’m not seeing your point.”

“I asked Ann in particular,” Haru continued, ignoring his interruption, “how they knew that Mr. Kamoshida wouldn’t die if they removed his desires. She told me they didn’t; they took a gamble on what Mona-chan believed was likely to happen. Then I asked her, what kept her from killing Mr. Kamoshida anyway? He’d done terrible things to her and her dear friend Shiho, and the only witnesses to her crime would have to admit they were complicit in it. Because they were in the cognitive world—in a Palace that would collapse as soon as they’d stolen his desires—there wouldn’t even be a trace of proof, either, beyond the words of her accomplices.

“In other words, it was a crime for which she could never be tried. She could carry out her desire for revenge and never be punished for it.

“Do you know what she said, Akechi-kun?”

Akechi managed not to squirm under the weight of her stare. He said nothing.

After an oppressive moment of silence, Haru continued, “She said, ‘Kamoshida was the worst kind of scum. That’s why I didn’t kill him, even though I wanted to. For everyone he’d ever tormented, there was no way I was going to let him get off as easily as dying.’” Haru’s eyes, usually so kind, narrowed into something as cold and hard as an ax blade. “Goro Akechi. You, of all people, don’t get to run away from what you’ve done. If I have my way, you’re going to live a long, full life, and you’re going spend every last second of it atoning for your crimes.”

His nails dug into his palms. “...I see. That definitely does make more sense. And it carries a certain extra gravity coming from you, Miss Okumura,” he concluded, deliberately using the English prefix.

Haru lifted her chin and gave him the picture-perfect nod of a refined heiress. “I’m glad you understand, then.”

Ren glanced back and forth at the two of them, then slipped his hands into his jeans pockets. “Akechi. Do you regret what you’ve done?”

Akechi pursed his lips. “...I have a lot of regrets.”

Ren gave him a knowing look. He was sure he understood that wasn’t the same thing. “Since you’re a fellow Persona-User, you know perfectly well we can’t force you to have a change of heart. If you ever have one, it has to come from you.”

He clenched his teeth.

“Even if you never do, though,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s right to abandon you.”

Akechi flinched—no, ‘flinched’ wasn’t the right word. It was like he’d been stung right in the heart. His lips parted...

“I agree,” Haru said then, her stony gaze unwavering. “And if you’d been listening to us properly during our battle instead of throwing a violent tantrum, you’d know that.”

...and then shut. A heartbeat later, he murmured, “Somehow, your tongue seems much sharper than usual.”

“The entire time you spent with us as a Phantom Thief, I knew you were my father’s killer. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m relieved to no longer have to hold back.”

Ren smiled at her, faint but sincere, before looking over at him. “Haru’s been under a lot of stress lately. You can’t say you don’t deserve it, either.”

Akechi sighed, shoulders sinking. “...No, I suppose not.” He rubbed his forehead. His original headache was mostly better, but he had two more brewing. Then he laid back down. “Excuse me. If I’m going to recuperate, I’ll need my rest—right?” He fixed the pair with a tight, bitter smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave myself until tomorrow.”

Haru glared at him, but Ren nodded.

“Take care,” he said, “and see you soon.”

The two of them left together, shutting the door properly this time. Akechi thought Dr. Takemi might enter again once they were gone, but then drowsiness roared up over his consciousness like the tide coming in. He blinked once, twice, and then no more as slumber washed over him.

At some point, he dreamed of police sirens. Or maybe it was real; he couldn’t quite tell.

When Akechi next awoke, his headache had cleared, only to leave behind a haze of grogginess. Dr. Takemi sat at her desk, and, when he stirred with a groan, wheeled around to face him with legs crossed.

“So Sleeping Handsome awakens,” she drawled, a pen between two fingers. “I was starting to worry.”

A surge of panic rose in his chest. “How long have I…?”

“By my watch? Just shy of thirty hours. It’s just past noon right now.” She leaned on one hand. “I’m surprised. I didn’t think you’d sleep longer the second time. I thought I had the sedative’s strength down, but it interacted with the painkiller harder than I anticipated. Don’t worry; I’ve already made a note of it.”

Thirty hours. So over a day, but not much longer. If it was noon now, then it must’ve been the morning after the battle when he’d last been awake. He pushed himself upright and swung his legs off the cot. No dizziness. That was good. His mind felt… not exactly clear, but he had a firm grasp of the situation. If it was functionally only a day later, then there should still be time. He wasn’t happy about being given a sedative along with a painkiller, but there was no point in complaining about it now.

“I’m checking myself out,” he said instead.

“Thank god. This is a clinic, not a hospital. I don’t have the spare room to keep you holed up here forever.”

He frowned. “Then why did you put me up in the first place?”

“Did you forget already? It was a favor to Amamiya.” She paused. “Well, you weren’t awake for long, so maybe you did forget. Either way, I really recommend you check in at an actual hospital.”

His shoulders tensed. “Why? He said you said there was nothing wrong with me.”

She smiled knowingly. “Did he? Well, he might’ve dragged you here in the dead of night and begged me to take care of you, but that doesn’t mean he’s got a right to your medical records.”

Begged? No, there was something more important there. Akechi gripped the edge of the cot. “...So then what does that mean for me?”

“Not sure. I did some blood work on you, checked your vitals, and a few other things while you were asleep.” She shrugged. “You’re not in critical condition, obviously, but you’re not exactly healthy, either. Aside from exhaustion, there was a bizarre amount of stress on your system. Unfortunately, I don’t have the equipment here to make a more detailed assessment. Like I said: you should check into an actual hospital. Just to be safe.”

He pursed his lips. Then he shook his head. “It’s probably just exhaustion from overwork,” he lied. “I appreciate your help, but I’m sure I’m fine.”

Dr. Takemi eyeballed him. “How’re you feeling? Any pain?”

He shook his head. Yesterday’s monster headache was but a dream now.

“Dizziness? Light-headedness? Nausea?”

“All I feel is hunger and a need to use the facilities. On which note, if you could kindly direct me to your bathroom...?”

She shook her head, then jabbed her pen towards the bin under the bed. “Out the door and to the left. You can get changed there, too.”

“Thank you.”

He opened the door with caution; once he confirmed there was no one in the waiting room and the blinds were shuttered close enough to keep anyone outside from spotting him by chance, he took his uniform and shoes to the unisex one-stall bathroom and locked the door. It had plenty of space, probably to accommodate persons with disabilities, so once he did his business and washed his hands and face, he took his time to get dressed.

His wallet and phone were missing, to his alarm, but he still had a comb in his inside breast pocket, so he neatened his hair while fighting down dread. He had no toothbrush, so he scrubbed his teeth as best he could with a piece of paper towel, then washed and dried his hands again. He inspected his reflection, and once he was satisfied, he pulled on his gloves and left.

Dr. Takemi was at the medicine pick-up window next to the door out. He inquired after his missing items there. She handled his wallet back no problem, though she refused his insurance card or even any money, but she didn’t know anything about his phone.

“Ask Amamiya,” she said with a shrug. “He’s probably holding onto it for you.”

Akechi frowned. “I was afraid of that.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing. Are you sure you don’t want any compensation? I’m sure he didn’t pay you off.”

“If I took your insurance card or credit card, that’d leave a paper trail that you were here,” she said. “Somehow, I’ve got a gut feeling that nobody wants that.”

“I see.”

She looked him over. Then she reached under the service window and flipped a card up between two fingers. “But anyone could get a business card from anywhere, right? So go ahead and take this. Just in case you turn out to be not as fine as you thought, and a hospital is mysteriously not an option.”

He accepted and studied it for a moment. It included her name, her credentials, and the clinic’s name, address, and phone number. True; Dr. Tae Takemi was on the list of suspects for Phantom Thief associates. If someone found him with this, he could easily explain it away. With that in mind, he slipped it into his wallet, which he tucked away. “Thank you for your consideration, Doctor.”

“It’s nothing. By the way, you aren’t in any trouble, are you?”

He blinked in surprise. “Why do you ask?”

“There was a great big ruckus a street or two down last night, thanks to the cops swarming around.” She leaned her chin on one hand. “Thought they might’ve been looking for you, but they didn’t even try to knock around the neighborhood.”

His dread intensified. “By ‘a street or two down,’ do you mean Café Leblanc?”

Her dark eyes narrowed. “Good instincts, detective. So why did Amamiya drag you half-conscious to my clinic?” She paused a beat, then added with real concern, “Is he in trouble?”

“That remains to be seen.” He scrutinized her face. “Did anything else significant happen last night?”

Too casual to be sincere, she leaned back and shrugged, arms held broad. “Who knows? I was too busy watching over a certain TV detective to pay attention to current events.”

“I see.” He flexed both hands in and out of a fist. “Then I suppose I’ll just have to retrieve my phone and find out.”

“Good luck with that.”

Akechi left the conversation and the clinic at that.

One look inside Leblanc and Akechi knew: the Phantom Thieves had stolen Shido’s Treasure.

It was a simple deduction.Aside from Futaba and Morgana, who were sitting at the bar, and Sojiro Sakura, who was standing behind it, Ren and his friends were in the middle of cleaning the place up from, based on what remained, having been trashed. Even if the police had come by, they wouldn’t have reason to rip the place apart unless they were looking for something—or someone—and the only person they might want that badly was the suspected leader of the Phantom Thieves. Akechi hadn’t told anyone else his suspicions that Ren was actually still alive, ergo the only way they could know to look for him was if the Phantom Thieves had issued an advance notice for Masayoshi Shido. And if the Phantom Thieves were all here, including Sojiro, who would certainly have been seized in Ren’s place, that meant that they must have been successful. The only thing that would make the police suddenly stop caring about nabbing culprits was if Shido’s heart had been changed, placing their immediate futures in dire jeopardy.

Which meant one other thing in turn.

“’Sup, Akechi,” Ren said, straightening from the table he’d been wiping down, with infuriating casualness.

“You!” he snarled, stride gobbling up the distance between them. The others scrambled out of his way. “You said you wouldn’t steal Shido’s Treasure without me!!”

Ren blinked once when Akechi grabbed him by the shirt; then he settled. “I never said that,” he replied, mild as apple curry. “I said we’d talk about it the next day.”

He rocked back in shock. That… was absolutely true. He hadn’t promised a thing. And like an idiot, he hadn’t read anything into his lack of commitment. When realization faded a second later, renewed fury rose in his throat like bile. “You never had any intention of bringing me along!!”

Ren’s eyelids drooped to half-mast. “Obviously.”

Sojiro cleared his throat behind them. “Damn, I could go for a smoke,” he announced to the room. “I’m gonna take a walk, enjoy a cigarette.” A warning note entered his voice: “Don’t you kids break anything, you hear?”

Akechi’s jaw clamped too tight for him to respond. Ren said nothing either. Everyone waited until the door jangled shut; then Makoto, Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, and Haru formed a half-circle around him, blocking him from the exit.

“Akechi,” Makoto said, voice flat, “you must realize there was no way we’d actually bring you.”

He released Ren to half-turn a glare at her. “So your magnanimous offer to bring me along was a lie the whole time. I should have known,” he growled.

“Hey, we meant it at the time!” Ann cut in. “But you didn’t exactly jump at the chance, remember? And you haven’t given us a lot of reason to trust you when you spent so much scheming against us!”

Akechi lanced Ren with a glare. He hadn’t told the others he’d asked to come along, and even said please? But Ren only gave him a stony stare back.

Yusuke was frowning as he nodded agreement with Ann. “There’s a league of difference between saving your life and trusting you with ours.”

None of you trusted me in the first place, Akechi thought, but that would only highlight their point. “You all know how much this meant to me,” he snapped instead.

“Y-yeah, and?” Futaba said, voice cold.

“For real, man,” said Ryuji, shaking his head. “It’s not like none of us feel for you. You wanted to punch your shitty dad in the face—yeah, I get that. But we heard you out while you were tryin’ to kill us, dragged you outta there before you got killed, an’ I’m still not hearin’ a ‘thank you’!”

“I didn’t ask for your pity!!” Akechi snarled.

“No, you just asked Joker, a man you tried to kill twice, to put you on the team,” Morgana pointed out, ears and voice arch. “What is that, if not asking for pity?”

The truth of this stung Akechi enough to make him flinch. And... so Ren had told them? What was this? “You’ve all made a big mistake,” he growled to cover it up. “Don’t think any of you will lead a peaceful life after this—”

“Enough.”

Akechi half-turned to glower at Ren, who had interrupted him. Ren glowered back.

“I made the call to ditch you,” he murmured. “Leave the others out of it.”

“The others? You mean ‘the others’ who helped you evade detection even though you were all under surveillance? You mean the source of your strength?” Akechi sneered, facing him. “No. I overlooked them before. I won’t make that mistake again. You’ll all regret tearing my revenge from me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ryuji groused.

“You’d better believe I’m not,” he growled, glaring back over his shoulder. “I’ll teach you—”

Breaking a stillness that had reached the boiling point unnoticed, Haru moved. A second later, Akechi slammed onto the floor, her ringed knuckles imprinted on his jaw. He rolled onto his back to gawk up at her as she loomed over him.

“Hit him again!” Futaba yelled.

Paying her no mind, Haru demanded, “You shut your goddamn mouth, you self-centered son of a bitch!”

Eyebrows flying into his hairline, Ryuji uttered, “Damn, Haru!” Echoes of the sentiment bounced around the room. Akechi felt just as flabbergasted.

Her aggression dissolved, and she took a step back, looking back and forth at the others. “O-oh, was that going too far?”

“Nah,” Ren said, stepping over next to her with a broad grin. “That was hot.”

“Oh!” Then she shared that grin with him and giggled, cheeks pink.

Eyeballing the way the two gazed at each other, something clicked in Akechi’s head. He rubbed his assaulted face with the back of his hand and glowered at the floor. Ah. So that was why Haru had shown up at the clinic. Ren appeared to feel the same way, too. Suddenly sick of everything, he leaned forward to get up.

A shoe pressed on his chest kept him down. Akechi snarled silently up at Ren, who had gone poker-faced.

“This whole thing with Shido’s Palace,” he murmured. “Do you feel betrayed?”

Akechi lanced him with a glare full of all the loathing he could muster. It was ineffective. “Yes,” he muttered, glancing away.

Ren moved his foot aside to stand over Akechi’s hips. He bent at the waist almost a hundred and twenty degrees to stare him in the face. “Good.” Ignoring the incredulous look Akechi shot him, he continued, “You think you’re the only one with a grudge? You think you’re the only one who wanted revenge? How can you be that oblivious to other people’s feelings and still call yourself a detective?”

He grimaced but refused to look away again. “I don’t care how you feel—”

“Obviously,” Ren interrupted. “We all know you don’t care about anyone’s feelings but your own, you self-righteous, self-absorbed, backstabbing prick.”

Akechi blinked rapidly, stunned despite himself. After how kind Ren was yesterday, he didn’t expect him to harbor such venom, no matter how evenly he delivered it. “S-so then what?” he rallied, propping himself up by his elbows. “You’re saying you have more of a right to revenge against Shido than me?”

“It’s not just revenge against him.” Ren knelt down, straddling Akechi, and grabbed him by the tie. “It was revenge against you.”

“What are you—ow!” He winced when Ren clonked their foreheads together, but when he cracked one eye open, he suddenly became hyper-aware of how close their faces were, the tickle of Ren’s breath on his lips, the weight of his body on his hips. Suddenly uncomfortable, he struggled to jerk away, but Ren only gripped his tie tighter and kept him close.

“Nobody fucks with my people and gets away with it,” he murmured, dark eyes deadly serious. “Do you understand me?”

“I-I...”

“Do you understand me?”

“...Y-yes.”

“Good.” Ren let go of his tie, but in return leaned forward, pushing him down by the forehead until Akechi’s entire body quivered with the tension of not collapsing outright. “Don’t do it again.”

“O-okay,” he stammered, body tingling cold and hot at the same time, heart hammering out a percussive beat on his ribs.

“Good,” Ren repeated, and this time he sounded pleased. He rolled onto his feet and stood up. “Then we’re all clear.”

Akechi stared up at him, totally unable to follow the thread of the conversation anymore. “What?”

“You fucked us up. We fucked you up. Now we’re square. Cool?”

“That’s—that’s not how it works,” he protested.

“No?” He looked over his shoulder at the others. “Is that not how it works, guys?”

Ryuji looked dubious, but he shrugged. “As long as you’re satisfied, man.”

Makoto folded her arms. “And as long as he’s learned his lesson.”

Ann grinned. “Nobody messes with the Phantom Thieves, after all!”

“And mercy is what divides us from the corrupt,” Yusuke added with a smile of his own.

“Still think someone should punch him again,” Futaba muttered. “But wh-whatever.”

Haru didn’t smile. Still, she said, “I trust you, Ren.”

“Your sound judgment has brought us this far,” Morgana agreed, tail undulating. “If you want to mend this bridge, I’m not… completely against it.”

“There you have it,” Ren concluded, looking back down at him. “Another unanimous decision.”

Akechi scowled up at him, radiating suspicion.

“Look, it’s like this, Akechi,” he added. “You lost. There’s no changing that. Either you can keep being a whiny shitty baby about it—” He bent his knees and held a hand out to him. “—or you can carry yourself with dignity. Your choice.”

His scowl deepened, and he heaved a sigh and glanced away. ‘Your choice,’ he says. What a joke.

But it was true that he was on the floor and all his enemies were looking down on him, and he’d already embarrassed himself enough the other night by losing all control. And… he didn’t… entirely want to reject him.

So, with flinching hesitance, he reached out in turn and took Ren’s hand. Ren gripped him tight, stepped back, and helped him up to his feet.

Once upright, Akechi twisted his hand out of Ren’s and held it palm-up. “My phone,” he demanded.

Ren pulled a smartphone from his left pocket and gave it to him. Akechi turned it on to confirm it was his, then put it away, dusted himself off with pointed care, and looked him in the eye.

“I’m still not going to thank you for this,” he said, voice flat. “I never asked you to save me.”

Ren nodded, seemingly unbothered. “I know. That’s fine.”

Akechi peered at him. What was this sudden return to being completely unruffled?

As if reading his mind, he explained, “I did what I did because I wanted to. Your gratitude would be nice, but it’s not necessary.”

He frowned back. He… didn’t know how to feel about that. At least some of the others agreed, if the doubtful looks Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba gave Ren were any indication. But it didn’t matter. He had more important business to handle.

“I’m leaving, then,” he stated. “I have nothing more to say.”

Makoto eyed him with open distrust. “Where are you going to?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You do you,” Ren said, affable as usual. But then his eyes narrowed. “Just don’t forget what I said.”

Akechi met his hooded stare. He would remember, no doubt. Whether that would change anything was another matter. He kept that to himself, though.

Regardless, Ren then stepped to one side to lean against a booth. The others parted, too, leaving the way out clear for Akechi. He strode out with his back straight and his head high.

Just as his hand touched the doorknob, Ren called, “Akechi.”

He scowled, but refused to turn around. “What now?”

“As long as you’re not bringing any cops or whatever with you, feel free to come back.”

Akechi couldn’t help it; he gave him an exasperated, withering look. “Why would I ever do that?”

Ren shrugged. “Just saying.”

He made a noise of irritation and looked away. “I really do hate you.”

But no one said anything else, and he left the café likewise silent.

“Are you sure that was okay?” Ryuji asked once Akechi was gone. “Givin’ him back his phone, I mean?”

“It’ll be fine,” Ren reassured him with his endless fount of confidence. Haru wished she knew where it came from; she’d like to drink from it herself.

“Not to doubt you,” Makoto said, “but what’s your basis for saying so?”

“A hunch.”

She shut her eyes, grimacing. “...I shouldn’t have asked.”

Ren crooked a smile at her. “Don’t worry. My hunches about Akechi are generally on target.”

That got most of the group chuckling. Ryuji in particular grinned. “Damned if that’s not right!”

Haru, however, pursed her lips as she flicked her gaze to the floor. “Hmmm.”

Ren looked over at her and Futaba. “You two okay?”

Haru slipped onto a stool next to Futaba, on whose lap Morgana now sat, so she could scratch the not-cat’s chin. “Yes, I suppose… I just have—mixed feelings.”

“Shaken, not stirred,” Futaba cracked. Then she sighed. “Same, though. I know back on the boat we all petted him and told him he was pretty so he’d stop throwing a temper tantrum, but I d-don’t really wanna see him again.”

Expression contemplative, Ren gave the two a slow nod. “That’s fair.”

“I’m surprised you invited him back at all,” Ann said. “I know after we fought we invited him to come with us to steal Shido’s heart, but you said the other day we were finishing the heist without him. I thought that was the end of it.”

“Yeah. Plus I thought you hated ‘im,” Ryuji added.

“I’ve never hated him,” Ren said, perhaps knowing the call he’d made had probably helped drain the group’s post-battle sympathy for Akechi now that emotional tension was no longer at an all-time high. However, Haru liked to think honesty demanded he add, “I just was constantly gripped with the desire to punch him in his smug fucking face.”

Futaba smirked as the group laughed. “Mood.”

“Congrats to Haru for living the dream!” Ann joked.

Ren caught Haru’s eye and gave her another broad grin that couldn’t be anything but approving. Haru giggled back, a buoyant feeling lifting her shoulders. She had to admit, it had been intensely satisfying, and it was growing even more so now.

Yet at the same time…

The gunshot echoed through the ship’s guts as Crow fired—not on Joker, as the cognitive Akechi had ordered, but on a red button some ways away. Everyone turned towards it as emergency klaxons wailed and red lights flashed.

Everyone but Joker, who ignored his injuries to spring forward and grab Crow by the wrist. The motion caught Noir’s attention, and she whirled around to follow it.

“What are you—” Crow had uttered. Joker yanked him forward, and together they stumbled three feet towards the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

A second later, a heavy, corrugated steel wall slammed down from the ceiling onto the yellow-and-black striped lining on the floor.

Noir’s heart leapt into her throat. It was only then that she understood what the button was for, and what Crow’s intent had been.

Another gunshot rang out on the other side of the corrugated wall, and a small dent formed at approximately head level for Joker and Crow both. But it was too late. The cognitive Akechi and his Shadow pets were locked away on the other side, unable to harm any of them. They’d won.

Noir and the others gawked at it, stunned into silence. Then Joker looked at Crow.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Crow, ever gracious, shoved him hard. Joker stumbled away, nearly falling over; Noir rushed to his side and set a hand on his back to steady him, and he gave her a smile of gratitude.

“I can’t believe you!” Crow snarled, swaying on his feet. “You—you—unngh...”

And then, like a marionette with its strings clipped, he began to collapse.

Joker was there in an instant, falling on his knees to catch him in his arms. Noir and the others crowded around as he pressed a pair of fingers to his carotid; then Joker breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging.

“You dumb bastard,” he murmured, gloved hand curling around Crow’s half-broken helmet-mask.

“God, no kidding,” Queen remarked, sending relieved laughter rippling through the team.

Noir had kept her peace, though. From where she stood, right next to Joker, only she could see the tenderness in his eyes behind the mask as he held the man who’d just tried to kill him. Who’d just saved his life. It was a tenderness that whispered of similarly soft feelings, and it made her chest tighten like a vice to see it.

“I do have to say, though,” Morgana cut in, interrupting her flashback, “you cut him a lot more slack than I’d expected. Even if you don’t hate him, I didn’t think you liked him, either.”

Ren shrugged. “It’s hard to dislike someone that pathetic.”

Haru curled a hand over her chest and wondered if anyone else realized he was lying.

“Is that why you invited him to return?” Yusuke asked, frowning. “Although I doubt he’ll take you up on the offer.”

Ren considered this. “More or less.”

“‘More or less’?” Makoto echoed.

He nodded. “It’s like Ryuji said way back: he’s like us. I wanted him to know he’s got one last chance.” His gaze swept across the group. “We steal people’s twisted desires to make them right their wrongs. In other words, to give them another shot at being decent human beings. It bothers me to give a second chance to scum like Shido, Kamoshida, and the likes of them, but not to a fucked-up teen like Akechi.”

“Mmm…” She nodded. “When you put it like that, I see what you mean.”

“Y-yeah… true,” Futaba grumbled. “F-fine. He can come back, but I won’t like it.”

Ren smiled, as if on the verge of a laugh. “That’s fine.”

Haru raised her chin to catch his eye. Ren met hers with his always-steady, ever-calm gaze, and gave her a slight nod. It made her relax, soften, even smile. His words had been as much for her as for Futaba, and it eased her worriesthat he accepted her dislike and mistrust without judgment. But then, of course he would. She knew it, too. For all her misgivings about Akechi and how Ren felt about him, she really did trust Ren. She’d trust him about everything, with everything, if he’d have her.

He smiled back, now gentle instead of mischievous, and she hoped with a fluttering heart that he would have her.

Chapter Text

Akechi stopped at his apartment first to charge his smartphone, take more painkillers for his punched jaw and the new headache it had triggered, eat a sandwich, shower, and change into his spare uniform. He didn’t need to wear his school uniform, it mercifully being Sunday, but this way he could dress without considering what to wear.While in the bathroom, almost nose to nose with the mirror, he stared in particular at the bruise purpling on his jaw. It would probably fade by tomorrow, but until then… He decided to bandage it after all. A bandage was neat, tidy, hid any number of excuses. That bruise Haru had given him was angry, ugly, painfully raw—all the things inside himself that he didn’t want others to see. How like a Phantom Thief of Hearts to yank that to the surface.

After that, he took the train to the Diet Building, where he would pick up the chrome briefcase he’d left behind. Along the way, he called his school to apologize for his absence the previous day (god, had he really missed only one day? It felt like he should have been unconscious for much, much longer), explaining that he’d been caught up in an important case. It wasn’t technically a lie. Then he looked up the Phantom Thieves’s advance notice video, copies of which had proliferated on the internet, and watched. By the end of it, he had to put his phone away or risk smashing it.

Two grunt officers from the Tokyo PD, barely in the know, stood guard on either side of the door to Shido’s office. Inside, as expected, the usual suspects and then some clustered around each other, uselessly batting frantic arguments and accusations back and forth like a game of Pong: the TV station president, the IT company president, the former noble, and the politician Ooe, along with Shido’s physician and the head scientist from the cognitive psience research team. Shido himself sat at his desk, forehead bowed on his folded hands, as still as if he were taking a nap. When Akechi entered, the commotion paused long enough for everyone to stare at him. Then, once he shut the door behind him, it renewed with vigor.

The physician started, “Akechi-kun! Thank god you’re—”

“There you are!” the TV president bellowed, overpowering him. “Where the hell have you been, boy?! Look at what’s gone wrong because you weren’t doing your job!”

He gestured fiercely behind him at Shido, who lifted his head and sighed dolefully like a calf bound for the meat market. Akechi fixed them both with a long, uncompromising stare and held it until the TV president cowed and took a step back. Pitiful.

Meanwhile, the scientist frantically shushed him. “Now, now, let’s not greet Akechi-kun with accusations; I’m sure he has a perfectly good reason...” He looked hopefully at his bandage.

He ignored it in favor of asking the group coolly, “What’s the situation?”

“Dire,” said the former noble, radiating tension. “Shido-san got weepy.”

“Which is why we’re all very, very glad you’ve shown up, Akechi-kun,” the scientist said hastily. The physician nodded along with vehemence. “R&D has no idea how we might fix him, but there’s nothing like the kind of field experience you’ve accrued, ahahaha!! I’m sure you have an inkling or two of something we could try?!”

Akechi bit back a caustic laugh. The two were practically vibrating with desperation. Considering all the very powerful, very angry men around them, Akechi probably looked like their savior angel right now. Too bad he was only an angel of death.

“Everyone, please leave the room,” he stated, radiating all the calm he could fake. “I need to speak with Shido-san alone.”

This raised another ruckus, half indignant, half protesting, all fearful. It stopped on a dime when Shido raised a hand.

“That’s all right,” he said. “I’d like to speak with you alone too, Akechi-kun.”

Akechi kept his hardened gaze trained on him while the other men in the room muttered and mumbled but ultimately shuffled out, one by one, around the twin couches separated by the glass coffee table. Once they were gone, Akechi set his briefcase aside and swept the room for bugs; he found two and destroyed them both. That there were any at all was a troubling sign. The normal Shido would never stand for it. He wouldn’t have to worry about eavesdroppers at the door, at least, since the paranoid congressman had long ago had the office renovated to be soundproof. Then he stood in front of Shido’s desk, gloved hands gripped into fists.

He nodded to him. “Akechi-kun.”

“Shido-san,” he replied curtly.

“I’m glad you’ve come back,” Shidosaid, voice kind. Almost paternal. “I was starting to worry about you.”

Akechi grit his teeth and didn’t respond.

“What happened?” he added, shifting his visual focus. “That bandage… You almost never come back injured.”

He rubbed it with the back of his hand. “I got it fighting the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.” It was true enough, and neatly condensed the events of the last two days.

“I see… So you were trying to protect me, then. That explains everything.”

That was also true enough, and it made him so angry he could chew sand and spit glass.

Either not noticing this or ignoring it, Shido sighed. “As for me, it’s been a madhouse around here since yesterday night. Ooe-san and the others haven’t let me so much as greet an intern. I know they’re only trying to look out for me as their leader, and I appreciate the sentiment, but… it’s extremely trying.”

“How unpleasant for you,” Akechi said, clipped.

Shido chuckled, as if it’d been a joke. The sound clawed on the chalkboard of his soul. “Well, I suppose you think it’s what I deserve.”

Akechi held his tongue.

He observed this, then nodded once. “You’re upset with me. I’ll stop beating around the bush, then. I want to confess the terrible things I’ve done in my pursuit to save this nation and atone—” He gestured towards the door. “—but the others absolutely refuse to let me. They intend on having me hospitalized to keep me quiet, in fact, and at this rate, I won’t be able to override them any longer. I’d like to ask for your help in circumventing them.”

Akechi’s fingertips dug into his palms. “Why do you think I would help you with this, sir?”

Shido raised his eyebrows, expression mild. “You were planning on something like it all along, weren’t you?”

His shoulders stiffened. “What… are you saying?”

Like a mother calming a fussy baby, Shido reassured him, “You don’t need to pretend anymore. I knew fully well you meant to betray me after the election, son.”

All the breath shot from his lungs as suddenly as if he’d been gut-punched. His mind reeled. The world seemed to tilt, and he struggled to keep his balance. His cognitive double had surprised him with the truth that Shido had planned on having him killed after the election, but this… this…

“Wha—how—you knew?” he sputtered.

Shido smiled at him, gentle and full of pity. “My boy, of course I knew. Once you proved you could do the things you claimed you could do, the first thing I did was run a background check. I figured out you were my illegitimate child soon after the results came back.”

He gawked at him and staggered back in shock. That long ago? The poisoned knife Akechi had kept hidden so he could make his father bleed at the height of his infernal glory—Shido had seen it up his sleeve all this time? Since that long ago? Since almost the very start?

Then if he knew all along, he thought, gloved fingers clawing down his face, what did I kill all those people for?!

“I… need to apologize to you for that, too,” his father continued reluctantly, folding his hands. “I’ve put you through so much as a result. I never cared about your needs or feelings; my only concern was how I could use you to my benefit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Even though you were my own son...”

“Stop it,” Akechi whispered.

“In truth, I’d meant to betray you too,” he continued, looking back up at him with woeful eyes. “I told you before I’d give you anything you wanted after the election, but I was actually planning on having you killed to preserve my secrets. Even though you’d worked so hard for my benefit…”

He clutched the back of the couch at his right to keep from collapsing. Everything was upside-down. “Stop it…!”

“I… never respected you,” Shido said, tone and expression reluctant. “I saw you as a needy child grasping for the approval of his father—no, as a puppet who hooked himself to my marionette strings of his own volition—and held you in contempt. Yet if you hadn’t made yourself useful to me, I never would have given you the time of day. For all that, I’m truly, truly, sor—”

“Stop it stop it STOP IT!!” Akechi screamed, slamming his fists on his thighs. Hate and humiliation burned through him as the threat of tears burned at the corners of his eyes. “You can’t apologize for this now, or ever!! Do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered because of you?!”

“No,” he admitted, so patient, so accommodating. “I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you and your mother. Speaking of whom, is she well…?”

“My mother is dead!”

Shido blinked wide in surprise. “She is?” Then he grimaced, chagrined. “Oh dear… Forgive me, Akechi-kun—this is quite embarrassing—but with all the flings I’ve had over the years, it seems I’ve forgotten. Which one was your mother again?”

For an eternity of a second, it felt like his heart stopped. Then all his indignant strength drained out of him. He slipped around to the couch’s front, slumped onto the black leather seat, spiked his elbows on his knees, and buried his face in his hands.

Silence breathed the air out of the room. Then, quietly, subtly, Shido’s desk chair creaked. Measured footsteps crossed the room over to the other side of the couch. Akechi felt Shido’s presence as he sat down next to him, though neither of them spoke for several moments longer. A lens cloth fluttered in his peripheral vision as Shido cleaned his glasses; then he set them back on his face and cleared his throat.

“Does this mean you won’t help me?” he murmured.

Frustration and weary anger ripped a sigh out of Akechi. He leaned his head back. “Even with your heart changed, you’re still a selfish bastard.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He gazed up at the ceiling. So. More than two years of effort, and it had been meaningless from the start. It was almost funny. Oh, and now that he thought about it, knowing the savvy politician, he probably would have had Akechi killed long before Akechi could have whispered the truth Shido already knew in his ear, let alone expose it to the public. By stealing Shido’s Treasure and thwarting Akechi’s plans, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts had saved Akechi’s life twice over.

Yes, it was so funny, it made him sick.

“May I ask you something, Shido-san?” he asked, voice as quiet as it was toneless.

“What is it?”

“You know that the way you feel now is the result of your perception of the world and yourself having been artificially, forcefully changed. What’s your opinion on that?”

“Hmm…” Shido folded his hands. “The old me had been terrified of that, of course. If the Phantom Thieves stole my heart, all my ambitions would crumble. I truly believed that the ends justified the means—that to save Japan from its path of stagnation and destruction, any amount of sacrifice was necessary. But, as you’ve already pointed out, that was just my selfish ego talking.”

Akechi glanced away.

“A country is its people. To lead a country without caring for its people is nothing more than a power trip.” Shido heaved a long, weighty sigh. “I am… unfit to save this nation. I realize that now. And I’m genuinely grateful to the Phantom Thieves of Hearts for making me realize it in time.”

Akechi squeezed his eyes shut.

The gentle pressure of a hand on his shoulder made him flinch upright and jerk his head around. Shido met his stare with a pensive frown.

“May I ask you something, too, Akechi-kun?”

“What.”

“You mentioned before that you wanted to be a ‘hero.’”

“Yes…”

“And you’ve had the same sort of powers as the Phantom Thieves for several years now.”

“…yes…”

Shido paused in consideration. Then, without the slightest trace of malice, he asked, “Instead of offering to use your powers for me, I assume as part of a trap, why didn’t you do what they did and change my heart?”

Akechi rocked away from him as if struck.

“It just seems too sad, when I look back on it all. Maybe you hadn’t realized you could? But you’re a smart young man. By the time the Thieves started reforming people, you must have figured it out. I know you held a grudge against me, but if only you’d done that at the beginning, none of this would have gotten so out of hand. I never could have enacted any mental shutdowns without you, as you well know. We could have started over instead. It wouldn’t have erased the past, but perhaps we could have had a different relationship… Been as a father and son should—”

Akechi bolted to his feet, almost skinning himself on the coffee table in the process. “Don’t,” he choked. “Don’t you dare say that. I did what I had to do, do you understand me?”

For a few seconds, Shido said nothing. Then he nodded and stood, too. Rife with melancholy resignation, he conceded, “That’s true. I suppose you got that side of you from me.”

And that cut deeper than any contempt or condemnation he could have heaped on him.

Shido sighed and stepped back towards his desk. “Very well. You’re right; I have no right to ask anything more of you. I’ll figure something out on my own.”

Numb. Yes, that was the word for this sensation: a fuzzy, electric tingling all over his body that absorbed or perhaps canceled out all other feelings. “Ooe-san and the others won’t let you,” he murmured. “Even so, you’re going to try?”

“Mmm… I know they won’t make it easy,” he admitted, rubbing his temples with one hand. “Once you tell them you won’t cooperate, they’ll no doubt have me hospitalized to keep me away from the press. But, yes, even so. It’s my moral obligation to confess my wrongdoings. Ideally, I would withdraw from the election too, but they’ll never give me the chance for that. I’ll simply have to take what opportunity I can once it becomes available to me.” Then he chuckled bleakly. “At that point, you’ll be able to expose me as your father, too. You’ll have your revenge yet, hmm?”

Akechi stared at him for a moment. Then he averted his eyes. You don’t have even a hint of a plan, he thought. You say it’s your moral obligation, but to your ‘compatriots,’ stopping you from confessing is a matter of life and death for their careers. They’ll out-maneuver you with ease. For you to give up on a potential ally and go forward anyway with nothing more than blind hope… you really are a completely different person now.

“Akechi-kun?” Shido prompted.

Slowly, he shook his head. “There’s no point in that,” he murmured, voice hollow. “You’ve done far worse than sire an illegitimate son. No one will care about that compared to all your other crimes. Once you confess to them… I won’t have to do a thing.”

He considered this. Then he nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

A lump rose in Akechi’s throat. He swallowed it down with difficulty, then turned and fetched his briefcase. “I expect you’ll expose everyone in the United Future Party, then?”

“That’s my intention.”

“Does that include my role in things?”

He hesitated. “I’m not sure. It might not be my place.”

Akechi paused, then half-turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Those you’ve killed are your responsibility. You came to me offering your abilities for my use, and you chose to do as I requested,” Shido replied. “Yet at the same time, I remember how reluctant you were at first to go as far as I had you go. I actively manipulated and abused you, praising you one moment and scorning you the next. I served as an abysmal role model. If I had done better myself, perhaps you wouldn’t have chosen the wrong path.”

Akechi flinched.

“So in that sense, I’m not sure what’s right,” he concluded. “What do you intend to do now, Akechi-kun?”

“…I don’t know anymore.”

“I see. Then we’re in the same boat.”

Akechi stared at Shido. He smiled slightly, a twinkle in his eye. The pun was intentional, then. The dad pun. He resisted the urge to screech and scratch his fucking face off, but only barely. It was all too much.

“I’ll be going now, then,” he said stiffly, and turned away.

“Wait. There’s something else I’d like to say to you.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Akechi said without slowing his pace, taking ugly satisfaction in denying this man this one trivial thing.

But then Shido grabbed his shoulder. “I think you might.”

Then he turned Akechi around and pulled him close. Akechi went rigid. Shido thus hugged him with no trouble at all.

“No matter what your reasons were, you always did your best for me,” he murmured. “Thank you, Goro. I’m proud to have you as my son.”

It was all

too

much.

His father’s words pierced through his heart and left it slashed to pieces. When the shock faded, his breath hitched, and he grimaced as his vision blurred. Dropping his briefcase like so much ballast, clutching his father’s broad back and burying his face in his shoulder like the lonely child he was at heart, Goro cried and cried and cried.

Shido endured this with all the patience he’d never had before last night, patting his back and murmuring soft reassurances. The boy didn’t know how long he let them stand there in the only embrace his father had ever given him; he only knew that only after his tears finally ran dry, leaving him drained and exhausted, did Shido let him go. He slumped on his feet without his support, upright but wavering like a tree half-broken after a vicious storm. Shido offered him a tissue; he accepted and cleaned his face without meeting his father’s eye. When he was done, he clutched the used rag between both hands, heart thumping, guts knotting, gaze still down.

“Do…” he began. “D-did you still want to request my help… sir?”

Do you need me?

“I couldn’t ask that of you now, boy. As I said, I’ll work things out on my own.”

No.

“I… see.” He swallowed hard. Then, facing away from Shido, he disposed of his garbage and fetched his discarded briefcase. Straightening his back, he took a deep breath. Then he breathed it out slowly, and with it, the last of the hopes that he hadn’t even realized he still had.

“This is the end of our relationship, then,” he said, keeping his tone cool and neutral. “Once I leave, you and I will hereby be strangers.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m saying I’m breaking all ties with you, Shido-san. You have no more need of my services, and I have no more need of your dubious good will.”

“I see… That’s for the best, then. We never had a proper father-son relationship to begin with, and it’s too late to start one now,” he replied, sounding disappointed. Folding his hands behind his back, he walked over to the wall past his desk and gazed out the window. “Before you go, I want you to know I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to leave you out of my confessions.”

Startled, Akechi half-turned. “What? Why?”

“In short, I want to believe my son will be a better man than I was, and choose to do the right thing on his own.”

His lips thinned. “And if I’m not?”

Shido bowed his head. “…Then at that point, we won’t have any ties anymore anyway.”

Akechi bowed his head, too.

“But, if that’s what you’re truly thinking… then allow me to offer you a few last words,” he added. “It’s all well and good to have resolve enough to let you do anything for your goals. However, once you actually will do anything, then you’ve already lost all integrity you began with.”

His knuckles whitened under his black gloves. “...I’ll take that under advisement, Shido-san.”

Shido said nothing further, and so neither did Akechi. Each of them facing away from the other, he left the office and shut the door behind him with a final click.

In turn, like flies on a carcass, Shido’s allies and aides immediately swarmed around him. The guards had been dismissed somewhere, it looked like. Being in the know didn’t equal being privy to the inner circle’s conversations, he supposed.

“Well?!” Shido’s physician demanded, more anxious than gruff. “Were you able to figure anything out?”

Akechi gave him a cool look. Contempt welled up to fill the hollow left in his soul. “No. There is nothing further than can be done. Shido-san’s change of heart is complete and final.”

The scientist let out a pitiful groan.

“Ugh. Useless,” the former noble sniffed. “Now what?”

“We’ll need to take him to the hospital after all,” said the physician. “The public absolutely cannot know about his current state, and if he says anything careless to the press...”

“I’ll be sure to suppress that,” said the TV station president, “but there’s something more important to consider. Once the election’s over, what next? Shido won’t be able to govern properly like this.”

The IT president chewed on a thumbnail. “We could set up a proxy to handle matters in his place, maybe? Ooe-san, you’re the logical pick there.”

“Yes, leave it to me,” said Ooe, nodding. “We’ve come this far; we absolutely cannot let this rise to power fail. Shido-san may or may not return to his senses one day, but either way, we’ll just have to handle this ourselves for now. Until then, we’ll be counting on you, Akechi-kun.”

Akechi raised his chin slightly to look down on the taller man. “I beg your pardon?”

Startled, the others stared at him.

The former noble recovered first with a chuckle. “Oh, don’t be coy, Akechi-kun,” he drawled. “This is no time for games.”

Akechi narrowed his eyes. “I’m not playing games. I worked for Shido-san—not any of you.”

“What are you trying to insinuate?” the IT president said flatly.

The TV station president made an annoyed noise. “Obviously, he’s saying now that Shido-san’s out, so is he.” The coward, he didn’t include, but his tone implied it at full volume.

Ooe waved a hand at the others as he faced Akechi. “How bothersome… I can understand the concerns you must have, young man, but you must realize this is no time to, ah, renegotiate terms, as it were. However, if you’re willing to wait three days—”

“No.”

He scoffed. “Akechi-kun, I know your youth may make you impatient, but—”

“No, I’m not working for any of you,” he clarified. “Period.”

The silence that followed this time hid a serrated edge. Akechi saw in everyone’s eyes fear, hostility, and a vision of the future that didn’t include him. It was all so obvious how these greedy, insecure men only saw him as a means to an end, how even their illustrious leader was only that so long as he could further their individual goals, that he was overwhelmed with an intense and powerful disgust for them all.

All of them, including himself, who was no different.

“I’ll only say this once, so I’ll make it as crystal clear for you fine gentlemen as I can,” Akechi continued, meeting their stares dead on. “I’m leaving to consider my next move on my own.

“You can’t stop me.

“You can’t bribe me.

“You can’t ‘remove’ me.

“And if you value your sanity, I suggest you don’t try.”

He felt their eyes stabbing into his back as he walked away, punctuating their speechlessness, and in turn knew his point had been taken to heart, as it were. His pace was brisk but not particularly hurried as he left all the rotten old men behind.

The confidence in Akechi’s gait lasted only until he left the Diet Building. Once he crossed the street, he sagged against the first tree he reached, forearm cushioning his head. His stomach convulsed, and he clapped a hand over his mouth to hold back his retching. Though there had been times where he’d come close, he hadn’t vomited since Wakaba Isshiki. He wouldn’t restart now. He could control himself better than this. He could. He could.

Once he repeated that to himself enough that it became a semblance of truth, he slowly removed his hand to gasp in the icy December air. His guts gurgled, but behaved themselves. With that settled, though, a single thought consumed him:

Now what?

After a moment, he pulled himself together and called a certain man. His smartphone connected on the fourth ring.

“It’s me,” said the man on the other side.

Akechi knew from voice and demeanor alone that it was. For that reason, he leaped straight to the point: “Have you heard the news?”

“Hmm? What news?”

“About our side employer.”

“Ahh, ahh, that news. Yeah, the video was damn well everywhere. So? Did the visiting team hit a home run?”

“Yes.”

He clucked his tongue. “Then the middle-aged old man struck out, huh? Too bad. He paid well.”

Akechi’s upper lip curled, but he kept his tone neutral. “What do you intend to do?”

“Intend? You make it sound like there’s anything to think about,” the man said, amused. “Side jobs come and go, but the family is forever. I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing. What about you?”

“I’ve already cut ties with him and his group.”

“Smart boy. Those limp dicks are gonna be like a roach with its head cut off.” He chuckled. “They might stick it out for a while, but they’ll drop dead soon enough.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“Yeah? Care to bet on it? A friendly wager, of course. You’re still a minor, eh?”

Akechi made a face at the other man’s teasing. I’m still a minor is how he’d always responded to his offers of things like alcohol, cigarettes, and women. “No, thank you.”

The man laughed. “Uptight as always. Well, that’s not always a bad thing. Good trait for a professional. So, how ‘bout it, kid? Why don’t you join our group? I’ll introduce you to the old men and we’ll treat you well. I’ll even personally take you under my wing.”

This surprised Akechi. Coming from this man—or rather, a man like this—it was a hell of a generous offer. “Huh? Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We recognize and appreciate talents like yours. You do fine work.”

His eyes narrowed. “As a ‘cleaner,’ you mean?”

“What else?”

Akechi shut his eyes. What else, indeed. What else was he good for to these people? To any of these damn old men? But it was his own fault, too. Abusing his Persona powers was the only way he’d ever made anything of himself. Naturally these disgusting sacks of shit would pick up on that and run out of town with it.

He shook his head and rallied his thoughts into an appropriately polite refusal. Persona or no, you didn’t disrespect the yakuza if you knew what was good for you. “I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t possibly. I made… a complete bungle of my last job. I don’t think I would be of any use to your group.”

“Ah, yeah, good point,” he said thoughtfully. “Yeah, after seeing that video… yeah. The old men ain’t exactly forgiving of mistakes. But then, the middle-aged old man wasn’t either, was he? I’m sure you’re used to it.”

Akechi clenched his jaw.

“Well, whatever. Youth is for fucking up now an’ then. Now you know better, eh? Anyway, if you change your mind, you know how to reach me. Later, kid.”

The line went dead. Akechi’s arm went limp. His phone nearly slipped from his grasp, but he caught it in time and tucked it away, set his briefcase down neatly, and clutched his arms to his chest. How understanding of him. Of course, that understanding had been that Akechi wouldn’t choose any other path than that of a killer.

And was he wrong? he asked himself. Shido had been right. Akechi knew it, too, no matter how much he’d screamed so what? and they deserved it at Ren and his friends. He’d never had to go as far as murder. But he did, and he couldn’t go back anymore. Even if Shido didn’t expose him, no doubt the Phantom Thieves would. They’d held a hand out to him during their battle, but hindsight made it obvious that it was only because they’d considered Shido the bigger villain.

No matter what, his life was over. His question to himself hadn’t changed at all.

Now what?

He slumped there, thoughts adrift a sea of hopelessness. Once you really will do anything, you’ve lost all integrity you started with… Damn it. Damn it!! He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes so tight it hurt. Why did his good-for-nothing dad have to strike right at the heart of it all? For the sake of his revenge, he’d decided he would do anything. Only once he’d triumphed over his worthless father would he be able to start over, live a life as one of the wanted, be the public’s beloved detective prince and hero. But that was just an illusion, no more real than his pristine Metaverse costume. With the lies swept away and the truth revealed, he was left only with his miserable self and the ocean of blood on his hands.

He’d lost everything. All his efforts had been for naught. Nothing he’d done ever made any real difference. He couldn’t even begin to face the enormity of his sins. And he had no idea what to do or where to go—

Until suddenly he wondered, If it were Amamiya, what would he do?

And he had no answer for that. But he knew how he could find it out.

He almost smiled. Was it destiny or a choice? Once again, he was drawn back to him. So stupid. Embarrassing, even. But this was the only light he could see in a storm of darkness. If anyone could carve a way through despair this deep, it was Ren. And if he couldn’t…

Well. That, too, would be an answer.

He took a deep breath, picked up his things, squared his shoulders, and headed for the station that would take him towards Yongen-Jaya.

Ren leaned back in his booth seat with a cup of fresh coffee, tired but satisfied. It’d taken all day to clean up Café Leblanc, but now Sojiro was safe and working his culinary magic behind the counter, his friends were all alive and well, he had a belly full of delicious curry, and the evening news was on, where that piece of shit Shido was sure to appear and confess his sins any moment now. Life, much like this Blue Mountain java, was good.

His friends sat all around him, both in this booth and the next one over. Ryuji joked around with Ann across from him, Fubata pestered Yusuke and Makoto behind him, Morgana chattered with everyone from his lap, and Haru—cute, sweet, amazingly dangerous Haru—sat next to him, giggling over her own coffee cup. He smiled at her fondly, and she caught his eye and smiled back, cheeks turning rosy.

Happiness swelled up inside him like a carnival balloon, making him almost giddy. Relative to the rest of their friends, Ren and Haru hadn’t known each other long, but… How to put it. From the dichotomy between her digging through garden dirt in a track jersey and her elegant bearing as an heiress, to the dichotomy between her demure, tongue-tied everyday self to the shivers she got making Shadows beg for their lives as a Phantom Thief, she was full of contradictions, and he adored that. Not just adored—he was attracted to her, mind and body, and he was 99% certain the feeling was mutual. With how heady this post-victory joy made him, he had to actively fight down the temptation to pull her close by the waist and kiss her in front of god and everyone.

Fight it he did, though. 99% certain or not, he had a hunch she’d rather that happen in private to start.

So why not start it? he told himself, and grinned. Why not indeed? Setting down his drink, he slid his hand down the table—subtly, furtively, as if just looking for a good resting spot—until his pinky barely brushed against hers. None of the others noticed, but Haru’s eyes widened.

Leaning in just enough to seem outwardly like he only wanted to be heard over the crowd, Ren made his voice intimately low: “Haru. Just between you and me, are you free tomorrow?”

A smile crept back onto her lips, and she nodded. “Did you have something in mind…?”

He nodded back. “I’ll text you the details.” He winked and smirked. “Keep it a secret~.”

She giggled into one hand as he leaned back. “I’ll look forward to it, then.”

“Hey, what’re you two whisperin’ about over there?” Ryuji said then.

Ren grinned. “Not telling.”

“Aw, c’mon! Not cool, man!”

“Yeah, spill! Spiiiiiill!” Ann chimed in.

“Oooh, what’s going on?” Futaba said, leaning in from the next booth over. “Dish!”

Ren only laughed. Yes, life was damn good. The only thing that could improve this night was—

The door jingled. Ren grinned, picked his cup back up, and took a casual sip.

“’Sup, Akechi,” he then said, thoroughly pleased by the timing.

The others were… less than thrilled as they all turned to look at the newcomer as he came to a stop between the booths and the bar, but that was okay. Somewhat less okay was Goro’s expression, which was somewhere between stony and dead. That was worrying, but not enough to wreck his mood.

“Amamiya,” he replied, tone flat. “I suppose you’re feeling pretty pleased with yourself right now.”

“I sure am.” Ren took another sip. “How’d it go with Shido?”

This prompted a reaction: Goro’s lips peeled back into a scowl as he glared at him with open—well, he’d describe it optimistically as anger. He took a moment to actually respond, during which time Ren noted his fists clenching and then relaxing. Then, in the same flat tone as before, he said, “Shido-san’s heart has been completely and thoroughly changed. After sincerely apologizing for a variety of things, he expressed to me his desire to confess his crimes and withdraw from the election.”

“Hell yeah!!” Ryuji roared, leading a celebratory uproar among his friends. Ren was more than thrilled to join them—except he spied Sojiro’s suspicious frown.

“You didn’t come here all this way just to tell us that, did you?” Sojiro asked.

A bitter smirk flashed across Goro’s face, here and gone as fast as a shooting star, as he glanced the boss’s way. Then he went back to glowering at Ren. “...As a result, Shido-san’s allies have decided to quarantine him from the media by hospitalizing him until after the election, which by political forecast looks to turn out a landslide in his favor.”

Ren set his cup down, no longer smiling. The others’s celebration died down fast, too.

“W-wait, what’re you saying?” Ann protested. “They can’t just do that, can they?”

“They’re already in the middle of doing it. By the time I left, they were working on a plan for a proxy to rule the country in his stead,” Goro continued without taking his eyes off Ren. “His sins are their sins, after all. They’ll do anything and everything in their power to keep that ship afloat. Their lives depend on it. And if they can carry him all the way to the election, then get voted into power, which they’re more than capable of, it’s game over for all of you.”

Ryuji shot to his feet. “That damn ship already sank!!”

“Has it? Maybe the Palacial version has, but in real life, a ship that size has to be driven by a crew. Yes… sort of like your group,” Goro mused, eyebrows rising slightly. “You all know better than anyone that it won’t go down just by taking out the captain.”

Ren and his friends stared at him with slow-but-steadily mounting horror.

“So you see, just because I lost, doesn’t mean you won,” he told Ren, eyelids hooding again. “All the plots you worked, all the hearts you changed, all the battles you fought, all of your hardship and struggles and passion and effort… in the end, despite everything, they amounted to nothing.” A beat. “How does it feel, Ren Amamiya? Knowing nothing you’ve done ever made any real difference? To come so far, only to fall just before the finish line?”

Ren slipped his hand under the table and onto his knee so Goro couldn’t see it shaking.

Makoto rose to her feet too. “Did you come here just to rub that in our faces?” she demanded.

“Hmm… If this is all you can manage, I suppose that’s what it amounts to, yes.”

“You are… a truly unpleasant person,” Yusuke said, frowning.

Goro chuckled and said nothing back.

“W-what do we do now?” Futaba mumbled, fidgeting and peeking over the back of her booth between Ren and Haru. “I could—y’know, leak everything on the internet—”

“After your team gallantly declared you’d make Shido confess all his crimes himself?” Goro interrupted coolly. “Isn’t that the same as conceding defeat?”

“Quiet, you,” Morgana demanded, thrusting a paw at him. He hopped up onto the table, tail swishing in agitation. “If it’s true Shido’s heart has been changed—and we know for a fact that it has—then he’ll find a way to confess. All that drive he used to have towards his conspiracy will instead be focused towards that. Once that confession is made public, that’ll be the end of it.”

“So we don’t have to worry after all?” Ryuji asked, shoulders relaxing.

Morgana raised his nose in the air. “At the very least, I doubt the situation’s as dire as Akechi is trying to make it out to be.” He twisted his head to look back at Ren. “Right, leader?”

Head bowed, he said nothing.

Haru leaned in, eyebrows knitted in worry. “Ren?”

“So that’s your answer?” Goro asked softly, gaze still on him. “You’re going to sit back and do nothing?”

No! he wanted to shout, but he couldn’t speak. An invisible vice had clamped down on his chest, crushing the breath out of him and leaving his throat desert-dry. His guts writhed while the rest of him was left paralyzed. It was like the bars of his prison cell had decided it was just too damn roomy and had squeezed in on him. He was powerless to help anyone, and trying had served as no more than a speed bump for the corrupt—again. It was happening again. Shido’s fucking heart had been changed and it was still happening again.

Goro breathed a faint sigh. “…How disappointing.”

Ren ground his teeth.

Goro began to turn towards the door. Before anyone could say or do anything, though, the Leblanc door burst open, and in stormed Sae. Ren managed to lift his head enough to get a good look at her harried, urgent expression.

“Bad news,” she announced once the door had swung shut behind her. Before she could lay it on them, though, she caught sight of Goro and startled. “Akechi-kun?! What are you doing here?”

“Oh, nothing important,” he said with a pleasant and empty smile. “I was just leaving, so if you’ll excuse me…”

Ren managed to un-stick his throat. “No.”

Goro paused, eyeing him over his shoulder. “No?”

“You’re not leaving. Park your ass right where it is, Akechi.”

He smirked and chuckled, but—small favors—he set his briefcase down and leaned back against the bar, arms and ankles crossed. Ren bore a stare into him for several seconds, which Goro met with cold and challenging eyes; then Ren nodded Sae on.

Sae scowled at Goro with open suspicion, but soon turned her regard to Ren and everyone. “A directive has come down about the new SIU director,” she said. “It’s going to be a proxy of Shido’s—the intent being to bury his crimes before he can confess them.”

“What? They couldn’t!” Haru gasped.

Makoto asked, “Isn’t there anything you can do, sis?”

Sae folded her arms. “Not easily, and if there was, I wouldn’t be here. What’s more, Shido’s been transferred to a hospital. The exact one seems to be top secret. His aides are claiming that the stress of all his campaigning and ‘certain groundless accusations’ have taken a toll on his health, and so no one will be allowed to see him until after the elections.”

“That’s bullshit!!” Ryuji burst out.

“It is, but it’s the card they’re playing,” Sae replied.

“So it’s just like Akechi said after all?” Ann said, worried.

Sae eyed Akechi. “You told them this already?”

“I didn’t know about the proxy SIU director, but yes, more or less,” he replied. “Not that that part surprises me. It is the logical next move.”

“What now, then?” Yusuke asked, troubled.

That was the billion-yen question, and it was no easier to answer when everyone turned their expectant, hopeful, ascertaining gazes on him. What now? There had to be a way out… there had to be a way forward… but if these corrupt assholes just kept moving the goalposts and rewriting the rules so they won anyway, what could they possibly do? He just… he couldn’t…

A soft hand rested over his, and he jerked his head up to look over at Haru. She looked as frightened as he felt, and she was looking to him for answers just the same as everyone—but even though she had to feel the way his hands were shaking, she still gave him a little nod, a little smile, and wrapped her fingers around his. Every gesture seemed meant to tell him, It’s okay. I’m scared, too.

And that was exactly what he needed in that moment. He smiled back at her as the tension gradually melted from his body, and clutched her hand back. Right… He’d made it this far with all his friends. As long as they were here to support him, he couldn’t go to pieces on them.

He’d just started clawing back a future for himself. Like hell he’d let it go without a fight.

“Akechi,” Ren said, looking to his left. “You said if Shido gets elected in, we lose. Right?”

Goro nodded slowly.

“Then it’s just the same as before. Our deadline’s still December 18^th.” He swept his gaze around at everyone. “Thanks to this warning, now we can do something about it instead of getting caught flat-footed. We just need to figure out what.”

“It’s a good thing we didn’t waste any time taking care of Shido,” Haru noted, scooting closer to him. “We barely have two weeks as it is.”

“We’ve faced tougher pinches than this before!” Morgana declared. “And we’ve always worked under the pressure of a tight deadline! This is no worse than usual!”

“If the problem isn’t Shido, but his allies,” Makoto mused, “then our logical next step is to knock his support out from under him. And the logical next targets…”

“…are the real-world versions of the letter-holders we fought on the ship,” Ren concluded.

“Woah, woah, wait, that was like. Five guys,” Futaba protested. “C-can we really hit five Palaces in two weeks?”

“Those are only Shido’s main pillars of support,” Goro chimed in. “There’s also Shido’s aides and underlings, each of his allies’s aides and underlings, extended flunkies in the government and the police, et cetera et cetera… It would be impossible to change all of their hearts in such a short time.”

“We shouldn’t have to,” Makoto countered sharply. “Shido’s conspiracy might be able to put out one fire, but they’ll have a hell of a time trying to put out five more blazes.”

Sae nodded. “That’s true. Even if they put in a flunky to replace the late director of the SIU, his work will get exponentially more difficult with five more powerful mens’s worth of dirty laundry to keep hidden.”

“Ummmm… Not to be a downer, but there’s another problem with this plan,” Ann said. “We don’t know, like, any of their names? Let alone their Palace keywords, or where they even are!”

“I’ll dig up the names for you,” Sae said. “The locations and keywords I can’t help with, but that’ll at least be a start.”

Makoto’s lips thinned. “Back to the prosecutor’s office then, sis?”

Sae nodded, apology flickering in her eyes.

“I’ll pack you dinner and coffee to go,” Sojiro spoke up. He didn’t usually do to-go, but this was a special occasion, Ren figured. “Sounds like you’re about to pull an all-nighter.”

She smiled ruefully. “Story of my life.” Her smile faded into her usual sharp, stern expression, and she nodded to the others. “I’ll be in touch once I’ve got more details.”

“Thanks,” Ren said. He glanced at Goro. The smug bitterness had faded from his expression, leaving behind only a distant loneliness. It made him want to reach out and pull him close.

“By the way,” Sojiro said then as he ladled curry into a container, “you kids aren’t gonna leave it at just that, are you?”

“Whaddaya mean?” Futaba asked.

“Knocking Shido’s support out from under him is a fine start, but it’s not wise to put all your eggs in one basket, is what I’m saying.”

“He has a point,” Sae said. “You all ought to come up with a back-up plan in case the usual methods don’t work out.”

“Or at least a distraction,” Sojiro added, “to keep Shido’s goons from paying too much attention to you.”

Ren rubbed his chin. A back-up plan… a distraction… something that would also keep Shido’s allies from interfering with his confession, while keeping them busy with things that weren’t the Phantom Thieves… He looked over at Goro. “Something like an exposé from a famous detective?”

Goro blinked, as surprised as the rest of the room. Then he barked out a humorless laugh. “You’re trying to rely on me now?”

“You are reliable when it comes to this kind of thing,” Ren pointed out. As he’d guessed, that wiped away all his pretense, leaving behind a conflicted frown.

“And why,” he said, “do you think I would help you with this, Amamiya?”

“Dude, make up your mind already,” Ryuji said, eyebrows pinched. “First you try to kill us, then you save us, then you flip out at us, then you bring us important info but in a really douchebaggy way, then you stick around when Ren says, and now when he says, ‘Hey, maybe we could use your help,’ you get all coy. Like, do you wanna be friends for real now or not?”

Ren grinned. God bless Ryuji. He really knew how to cut to the heart of things.

Cheeks reddening, Goro protested, “That’s—that’s not what this is about—”

“Akechi,” he interrupted. “That’s exactly what this is about.” Goro scowled at him. Ren met his glare with renewed calm. “I know why you came back. So I’m going to break this down to the basics: do you feel even the slightest scrap of remorse for anything you’ve done? Ever?”

That struck home, if the hesitation that washed over his face was any indication.

Ren watched him for a moment longer. When Goro didn’t speak, he continued, “If you don’t, then I’ve got nothing more to say to you. But if you do, quit messing around. You already know what your answer is.”

Goro held his stare for only a second or two before he fidgeted and glanced to Ren’s left—where Haru and Futaba were. Then he dropped his gaze entirely, expression dripping with unhappiness, and sighed.

“…All right,” he conceded. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

Ren smiled, then turned to catch the glances his friends were all giving each other. “What do you guys think?”

“Hmm… If he’s being sincere, he’ll be a big help,” Makoto said. “He knows the enemy a lot better than any of us.”

“I’m all for it,” Ryuji said. “We already punched it out an’ all.”

“What? That makes no sense,” Ann said.

“It makes perfect sense!” Ryuji protested.

“I still have some misgivings,” Yusuke said. “This could be another trick.”

Ann paused in her argument to look Goro over. “Mmm… I don’t really get that sense? I’m pretty sure he’s legit this time.” She pursed her lips. “…But I think Futaba and Haru’s opinions count the most here.”

Haru cleared her throat. “I’m not so petty to demand Akechi-kun be thrown out when he could still be a help to us at a time when we really need it.” She narrowed her eyes at Goro. “…But I’d like it on the record that I still neither like nor trust him.”

“Seconded!” Futaba chimed in, shooting her hand up like she was in school. “Also if we take him back, I reserve the right to mess with him at any and all times, in any way I want.”

“Um, I… guess that’s fair?” Goro hazarded.

Futaba clapped her hands, rubbed them together, and cackled like a witch.

“…Well, if he’s willing to submit himself to Futaba’s tender mercies, I have no more objections,” Yusuke said.

“That’s that, then,” Ren said, nodding. He squeezed Haru’s hand and nudged her to move over; then he did the same. “Now get over here and help us figure this out, dumbass.”

A laugh rippled through the room as Goro made a face. Still, he squeezed in next to Ren. “Couldn’t you come up with a more flattering way of putting that?”

“Nope,” he chirped.

Sae chuckled and picked up the to-go bag and cardboard cup of coffee Sojiro had just finished preparing. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

“Ah, before you go, Sae-san,” Goro said, pulling out his phone. “Let me show you all this.” He scrolled a couple of screens, then set it down, open to the MetaNav app. Ren, Sae, and the others leaned in. Specifically, it was a list of names, some of which included Palace keywords and locations. When everyone’s attention was fixed on it, Goro scrolled down. More names, some with Palace info, some without...

“This is everyone in Shido’s immediate circle and then some,” he explained. “The top five are the Shadows you should have encountered in his Palace as cognitives. You can skip the cleaner; he’s not interested in sticking it out.”

“This is incredible!” Sae breathed, picking up the phone. “Is the entire conspiracy in this list?!”

“Not everyone. For example, Kunikazu Okumura would have been on there, but not necessarily every allied employee or board member of his,” Goro said, glancing at Haru. Haru scowled back. “The internal affairs of external organizations were generally beyond my, ah, scope, as it were.”

“Two punches for punning,” Futaba declared, and executed judgment.

“Ow!”

This got a smile out of Haru. She reached out to Sae. “May I?” When Sae gave her the phone, she scrolled down the list of names. Her expression pinched, and her sigh as she gave it back was one of disappointment.

Ren understood. The way Goro had put it, there might have been some Okumura Foods employees on there, and if there were, she’d at least know who definitely couldn’t be trusted. Either there weren’t, or she didn’t recognize the names.

Sae meanwhile held Goro’s phone up to him. “Can I borrow this?”

“No,” he said. “But I’ll forward the information to you so you have it by the time you return to the prosecutor’s office.”

She pursed her lips, but gave it back regardless. “All right. Don’t let me down.” And with that, she grabbed her coffee and to-go bag, and strode out of the café.

“Aw, but letting people down’s what Aketchy does best,” Futaba cracked as Sae left.

Goro flinched, but said nothing as he messed with his phone.

“He’s got other things he does better,” Ren said, spotting this. “Speaking of, Akechi, about what we were saying earlier about the distraction...”

“It’s not a bad idea, in and of itself,” he said, not looking up. “But not an exposé, at least not to start. I cut ties with Shido’s crew, so if they see me announce something like that, they’ll assume I mean to throw them under the bus. Which is true, but I assume you want me to do something that will lower their guard, not raise it.”

That was a fine point. Ren considered it. “Who among them knew our identities?”

“Everyone knows you, thanks to your arrest, but only Shido and I knew the others. He thought it would be better to have a confession beaten out of you so that information had a traceable path. Less likelihood of someone slipping up that way. When you didn’t confess in time, he didn’t care, since he was going to have the rest of you quietly assassinated once the election was over anyway.”

“Yikes,” Ann uttered, eyes wide. Ren wholeheartedly agreed. They’d guessed at the last part, but Goro’s matter-of-fact, methodical delivery gave it an extra-chilling edge.

“And that was going to be your job?” Makoto asked, eyes narrowed.

Goro shrugged. “If he hadn’t had me killed first.”

No one spoke for several moments. Ren curled his free hand into a fist. Now instead of chilling him, his bluntness made Ren sad—and angry, for Goro’s sake. His cognitive self had revealed that already, but…He wondered if that was one of the ‘various things’ for which Shido had apologized. Curiosity made him want to ask the details of that conversation, but concern for Goro’s feelings convinced him to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, Goro shot Sae the promised information, set his phone down, and leaned back on his booth seat. “Anyway, as we were saying?”

“Hrmm…” Ryuji folded his arms behind his head. “If an exposé or whatever’s out, what’d really get people’s attention?”

“Introducing something brand-new might be too distracting—or alternately, fail to catch people’s interest,” Makoto mused. “So ideally, it should be something that can wrap back into the conspiracy, but wouldn’t seem like it at first.”

Ren glanced at Haru. One thing bubbled to mind, but… he didn’t want to pressure her. She met his gaze, then flicked her eyes down. He curled his fingers around hers to comfort her. And that would have been the end of it, except—

“Such as a high-profile murder case?” Haru murmured, lifting her chin.

Everyone stared at her, Ren included. “You don’t mean—?” he began.

She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and…” She squeezed his hand tight. He gently rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, and she relaxed. “In short, it would make sense for the heiress of Okumura Foods to want to know the truth behind her father’s death, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you sure?” Ren pressed. “You don’t need to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m sure,” she replied, blessing him with a brief but sincere smile. It was gone by the time she fixed a glare on Goro. “Akechi-kun. I want to hire you to reveal my father’s killer.”

He barked out a disbelieving laugh. Then: “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Extremely,” she replied, tone glacial.

Well… that was awkward. That was more or less what Ren had had in mind, minus the implication that Goro should come clean. Sort of. He’d gone back and forth on it himself—as much as he liked the piece of shit, as much as he wanted to give him the chance to make amends, was it really right to let him get away with literal murder? With serial murder? Goro was probably grappling with similar questions, given his silence and look of dismay. At least, he hoped he was.

“It sounds like a good plan,” Ren said to break the quiet. “I doubt anyone in the know would expect you to implicate yourself.”

“It’s… true,” he murmured reluctantly. “If that were announced, they’d probably assume I’d taken the job to cover my own tracks, and therefore have no intent of causing them trouble.”

“And technically speaking, the conspiracy was behind his death, wasn’t it?” Makoto remarked, sharp-eyed.

Goro glanced over his shoulder at her. “Technically speaking, he was part of the conspiracy,” he said. He shot Haru a brief look, then studied his folded hands. “But I see what you mean.”

Haru said nothing, but the air around her dropped about ten degrees.

Ren coughed into a fist. “We’ll go with that plan, then,” he said. “Haru, Akechi. Once this meeting’s done, you two set up what you need to, then keep me in the loop. I’ll help mediate between you two. You’ll probably need it.”

They both nodded, each of them visibly relaxing. Yeah, that was about what he figured.

“Now then,” he continued, pushing himself to his feet. “Let’s get upstairs and plan us a quadruple heist.”

Chapter Text

Even though it was her own idea, Haru already hated having to work with Akechi. In another reality, perhaps she’d be more sympathetic to him... see him as a victim, too. But this wasn’t that reality, and here, his very presence was a constant agitation. The top agitation right now was how he was to “find” her father’s killer. That had been a point on which he’d insisted after the meeting had broken up and they’d left Leblanc for her place to discuss the details of her hiring him—that the wording of the contract between them didn’t require him to come out and confess his personal involvement. When she pushed on that matter, he said he wasn’t refusing to confess, just not on her terms, and that once Shido’s entourage confessed, they’d come to light anyway. She hadn’t been able to hold her ground, and she couldn’t stand him or herself for that. If it was just a matter of finding him, what in blazes was the point of hiring a detective? They both knew damn well where to find him.

At the same time, though, she knew that there was more at stake than personal retribution. As much it hurt her, it was true that her father had been involved in Shido’s conspiracy. Even if Akechi didn’t confess on his own, unveiling the conspiracy meant wrecking the basis through which her father had been killed in the first place. And to unveil the conspiracy in two weeks, before the election, they absolutely needed Akechi’s cooperation. So, fine. She’d let him play the role of the noble detective prince come to rescue the grieving heiress from injustice.

But, like most things she had to allow, she didn’t have to like it.

Once they finished drawing up and signing the contract, and once Akechi had contacted the police and the media to let them know he’d taken on a private job, they agreed to drop by Leblanc tomorrow—after school but before the press statement Akechi had scheduled for the both of them—to bring Ren up to speed. When she’d double-checked with Ren after the meeting, he’d admitted they’d have to put off that private talk he’d invited her to for now. Haru understood why, but it was still bitterly disappointing.

So… at least before this charade was made official, she wanted to see him one more time, let him reassure her. Ren had said he’d mediate for them. It was very sweet, one of many little gestures that had gotten her smitten with him. She knew he would be busy as the leader of the Phantom Thieves too, with four Palaces to explore, so she absolutely wanted to lean on him while she still could.

Especially since tomorrow was…

No. She couldn’t be selfish at a time like this. She wasn’t a weak little girl anymore, either. She had to keep a stiff upper lip, for the good of the team.

After school the next day, she checked on the plants on the roof, then hurried to Yongen-Jaya. She’d hoped she could beat Akechi there, get a few moments alone with Ren at least, but as she hurried up to the café, she found him already opening the door. He looked over his shoulder at her, then gave her one of his sparkly-fake smiles, bowed with irritating grace, and held the door for her like the gentleman he wasn’t.

But they were in public, and they both understood what their public roles were supposed to be. She gave him a rigid smile and a couple words of thanks, and walked inside with her chin held high. He followed her inside without comment. That was one silver lining to dealing with Akechi: he seemed to understand how much she despised him and had no intent of trying to convince her she was in the wrong for it.

Sojiro was behind the counter and open for business. He actually had a couple of customers in, at that—an elderly couple seated near the back. Haru greeted them all with a warmer smile, glad to see his good fortunes, even if he didn’t seem all that thrilled about it himself. He told them Ren was upstairs like usual, and they let themselves up.

Ren was doing crunches while hanging upside-down from a ceiling bar as Morgana supervised from atop a nearby chair. Haru’s steps slowed as she approached. He… he was doing it while shirtless. And his time as a phantom thief had been very kind to his physique. Haru had seen some models whose abs weren’t as tight. It made it difficult to tell where she ought to put her eyes, especially when she knew where she wanted to rest them. She cleared her throat as primly as possible.

“Oh, Haru!” Morgana said cheerfully, draped on the cushion. “School’s already over for the day, huh? It’s so easy to lose track of time in this season. Do you and Akechi already have things in motion?”

“Partially,” she replied. “There was something I wanted to discuss, but…” She let herself glance at Ren and managed not to lick her lips. “Um, is this a bad time?”

“Nah,” Ren said, still doing crunches. “I’ll be done in a sec. Sit wherever.”

Haru considered the phrasing of this invitation very carefully for a few seconds. “Then, if you insist...” she said slowly. Slipping around him so she didn’t get in his way, she walked over to his bed and seated herself on the end of it, where she would have the best view of his flexing back.

Even though he hadn’t protested the idea, Akechi already felt uncomfortable working for Haru. It was a little ridiculous that he felt that way, in his own opinion. When he came back to Leblanc after turning down all of Shido’s associates, what exactly was he expecting to happen? In his heart of hearts, hadn’t he wanted them to overcome the despair he brought them? Hadn’t he wanted Ren’s offer to come back to include coming back to the fold? The fact that Ren and the others were even willing to give him a chance now that Shido’s heart had already been changed had been beyond his reasonable expectations. To end up in the specific employ of Haru Okumura, though… It was a good idea. A sensible idea. It was just incredibly awkward.

At the same time, though, it was strangely refreshing. He’d spent his entire life being hated and unwanted by everyone in any kind of close proximity to him. This time, at least, he deserved it. Haru was even more professional about her dislike of him than some actual professionals. He’d expected her to push much harder about “finding” versus “revealing” her father’s killer. He resolved to treat her as courteously as possible to make up for it, though she probably wouldn’t forgive him all the same.

Which was fine. He understood, better than most, how embittering it was to lose one’s chance to deal with one’s abusive father on one’s own terms. This season would no doubt be harder on her than usual, too, all considered.

He returned to school the next day. His classmates had taken his unannounced day off in stride, and his teachers only scolded him for not calling out sooner. He repeated his apologies and felt oddly stung by how people barely noticed he was gone. He’d thought he’d gotten used to it by now.

After classes, he went straight to Leblanc, as he’d agreed on with Haru. The instant he opened the door and breathed in the scent of freshly-brewed coffee, he felt at ease for the first time that day. It lasted as long as a footfall at his back and him turning around to see Haru, who looked as happy to see him as he was to see her. Not that it was her fault, exactly, just… he’d hoped to beat her there by a larger margin. That was probably selfish of him. He supposed there was no helping that his school was further away.

He held the door open for Haru with no expectation of thanks, and was thus not disappointed. After a brief exchange with Sojiro, they went upstairs to find Ren working out under Morgana’s watchful eye, using one of the ceiling beams in his terrible attic room as a crunch bar.

That wasn’t the part that caught Akechi’s eye. It was the fact that Ren was topless. Every time he curled his body from the waist up, he could see his every muscle group crushing in on themselves and smoothing out again. It was… mesmerizing.

So much so that he felt a flash of guilt for ogling, but then he told himself, It’s not a crime to look, is it? He doesn’t seem to care if anyone looks. And if he does care about anyone leering at his tight, half-naked body, then he shouldn’t be so goddamned handsome.

Which was an excuse through and through, but making excuses and superficially convincing himself of them was one of Akechi’s many survival strategies for his daily overdose of cognitive dissonance.

“Oh, Haru!” Morgana was saying. Akechi noted that he wasn’t greeted, and couldn’t decide if that also stung or if he didn’t care. “School’s already over for the day, huh? It’s so easy to lose track of time in this season. Do you and Akechi already have things in motion?”

“Partially. There was something I wanted to discuss, but…” Like iron filings to a magnet, her gaze turned towards Ren. “Um, is this a bad time?”

“Nah,” Ren said, still doing his set. “I’ll be done in a sec. Sit wherever.”

Haru chose the bed for some reason. Rather bold for a girl, and one raised in wealth and class at that. Akechi used that as an excuse to do the same, seating himself neatly about a foot down away from her and waiting with no sense of impatience for Ren’s exercises to end.

The view of his flexing back from here was superb, after all.

Ren was counting down in his head, so he didn’t need it, but once he hit zero, Morgana still told him, “All right, that’s enough.” Which he did appreciate. He’d lost count in the past, even without the arrival of a pair of guests.

With practiced ease, he swung his torso up to grip the ceiling beam, unhooked his legs from the same, and flipped in midair to land light on his bare toes. He’d worked up a good sweat, and was barely breathing hard. Best of all, he was feeling much more clear-headed than yesterday. Once everyone had gone for the night, Morgana had insisted he go to bed, as the fuzzy little fusspot so often did. He barely got any sleep, though. He’d managed to hold it together, be a good leader for the others, but once he’d been left alone with his own thoughts, he had to confront the reality that it was only because Goro was a spiteful dickhead that they had a chance to take out Shido’s conspiracy for real. Scenarios of how things might have otherwise gone otherwise if he’d died instead ran through his head all night like ghosts in a haunted house.

He grabbed his towel from the back of the chair on which Morgana lounged and draped it around his shoulders, rubbing the sweat from his face. “So what’s up?”

Haru cleared her throat. “Akechi-kun and I finished up the, ah, hiring paperwork already, last night. He’s set up a… press conference?”

“Essentially,” Goro said.

“Mm. That. For tonight. To make it public.” She sighed, sounding troubled. “I admit, I’m a bit nervous.”

“You don’t tend to like talking in front of crowds, yeah. Will you be okay?” He lowered his towel in time to see her smile. He smiled back and added, “Maybe we can help you prepare a few remarks, if you want.”

Intense relief added another dimension to her smile. “Really? That would be a big help!”

“Sure.” He glanced right. “Akechi, you have experience with that, right?”

He sat up straighter. “Hm? Ah, yes.”

...Huh. That almost sounded like he’d been caught off-guard. Unusual for Goro, even taking into account how he’d exploded emotionally twice in as many days. He’d been looking right at Ren, though. Ren peered at him, then at Haru, and—

“I’ll be happy to lend a hand too, of course,” Morgana said, sitting up.

“Eh?” Haru ripped her—yes, her stare from Ren to him. “Oh, ah, thank you, Mona-chan!”

A slow grin dawned across Ren’s lips.

Oh.

Damn.

This was delicious.

Ren Amamiya was a quiet person these days, but his truest self was someone who loved to showboat, to impress, to attract attention. And there was a certain ego boost involved in the two of the most attractive people he knew lathering him in their most rapt attention.

Well. If they liked what they saw, why not give them more of it?

“I know the objective is to...” Haru gestured vaguely, glancing over at Akechi. He was staring away from her, at the shelves next to the bed. “Um, well, to make a sensation of trying to find my father’s killer. But I’m afraid someone will ask about the Phantom Thieves, and I don’t know what I ought to say...”

She looked over at Ren. He’d picked up a large water bottle from the shelves and had started to drink. Ahh… Something about the way he held himself, easy and confident, throat bobbing as he drank, sweat glistening on his skin, was just so…

“I’d try to steer the topic away from the Phantom Thieves,” Morgana said. She shook her head and tried to pay attention. “Ultimately, we’ll be blaming it on the conspiracy, but we don’t want them forewarned about it. It’s best to imply, at least to start, that the culprit was some standalone agent.”

“I was planning along those lines,” Akechi said, looking over at him. “Namely, to suggest that the true culprit took advantage of the advance notice for the timing of their murder and allow them to shift the blame.”

Ren pulled the bottle from his lips. “A drop of truth goes a long way,” he cracked.

“Yes, well...”

Akechi trailed off. Haru held her breath. Ren had tipped the water bottle over his head, shoulders, and chest, sending rivulets of water coursing over and around his muscles. Haru crossed her legs as tightly as she could. She never thought she would ever be envious of a liquid, but here she was. If only she could trickle her fingertips down his chest in its place! If only she could be daring enough to do it anyway. What a thrill it would be to pull him close, push him onto the bed, and—oh dear, oh dear. She was getting far too far ahead of herself.

But the idea still sent a delectable shiver across her skin. How much better she was sure it would be if that shiver came from his touch. Maybe if they were alone, she could work up the nerve to touch him first, but there was Mona, and…

She glanced over at Akechi.

“A drop of truth goes a long way,” Ren remarked, holding his water bottle.

Akechi resisted the urge to kick him for the pun. He found himself having to actively resist his urges a lot the past couple days. “Yes, well,” he started, and then promptly lost his train of thought when Ren upended that bottle over himself. A stream of water trickled down, slicking his hair, lapping around his shoulders, streaming down his chest and dripping onto his sweatpants. The raw sensuality of it was so captivating, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

And he hated it.

He’d been attracted to Ren for ages. Arguably, he’d been drawn to him since the moment they first met that fateful day in the TV studio when random nobody Ren had stood up and said the Phantom Thieves that popular celebrity Akechi had just disparaged were justice. Normally he hated it when people defended his foes, but the look in Ren’s dark eyes had been so intense, he’d been intrigued instead. That feeling had never gone away. He wasn’t in such deep denial that he didn’t know that about himself. However, ever since their battle in Shido’s Palace, it was getting harde—more difficult to compartmentalize how he felt about him. When they were enemies, it was… occasionally painful, but he could keep himself in line by reminding himself of his priorities. Now that his primary desires had been shattered, his secondary desires were finding ample space to, er, expand.

He folded his legs to discourage any of that from getting literal. It didn’t help that this smug asshole, this absolute piece of shit, was practically giving him a burlesque show. The day before yesterday, he comforted him; last night, he threatened him; and now, he was flaunting his half-naked body in front of him. The constant back-and-forth was as infuriating as it was alluring. God, if Ren pushed him down again now— Akechi covered his grimace with one hand as he imagined it. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to resist, would he. The fantasy of it might even, ahem, keep him warm this winter’s night.

And never mind that Morgana and Haru were right there. Were they staring too? At least she must be, since this show was no doubt actually for her.

He glanced over at Haru.

Their eyes met at the same second. In the same second, they each took in the other’s flushed cheeks with widening eyes; in the same second, they understood what those things meant about the other; and in the same second, each of them shot their stares away.

He likes Ren too, Haru realized, suddenly unable to breathe.

She’s figured out I like Ren, Akechi concluded, gripping the edge of the bed.

When the last of the water trickled down his face, Ren set the bottle down and shook his hair like a model, then ran his fingers through it luxuriously. For an impromptu performance, he was pretty pleased with how it went. He winked an eye open to check the results.

Both Goro and Haru were blushing and had their eyes fixed on opposite sides of the room, i.e. not on him. Neither of them looked happy. Not good. Maybe he’d overdone it.

To check, he asked as he toweled his neck, “Something wrong?”

Both of them flinched. Haru shoved her hands in her lap, which she promptly stared down at, while Goro folded his across his chest, pretending to be fascinated by the wall.

“O-oh, it’s nothing,” Haru stammered, red-faced. “It, um—it must be tough, not having a full bathroom of your own.”

“I know,” Ren lamented. “I’d sell my soul for a hot shower.”

“You shouldn’t say that when we regularly associate with demons,” Goro muttered.

“Figure of speech. Piss off, Satan.”

That got Haru to giggle. Even Goro smiled as he shook his head. Pleased, Ren stretched his arms up and then all the way to his toes, then crouched into a leg stretch, left bent while his right stuck out straight. He reached out and pulled his foot back with both hands, then held that pose, making sure to keep himself bent at the best angle for ogling.

Not that either Haru or Goro were the type to ogle. They both had classiness to go with their violent, repressed rage. But they were both giving him furtive glances anew. And as Ren eased out of that stretch and paralleled it on the other side…

“How long… do you intend to keep doing that?” Goro asked, a certain tightness in his voice.

Keeping his tone bland, Ren replied, “It’s important to stretch before and after a workout.”

“…Ah.” A beat. “Of course.”

Ren bit back a laugh, but just barely.

“You’re astonishingly flexible,” Haru offered, perhaps to imply a reason why she started watching him outright.

“This? Nah,” he replied, pulling his left foot back nearly parallel to his calf. “I can do better.”

“Oh…” she uttered. That single syllable was smothered with sinplications.

Oh, yes. This was much, much better.

“Ren, how long are you going to leave that puddle on the floor?” Morgana chided him then. “Don’t come crying to me if you slip on it!”

That was kind of a mood-killer, but he did have a point. Ren glanced down at the wet floorboards, then rose to his feet and turned around, dropping the towel from his shoulders. “It’s all good,” he said, using one foot to drag it over the remains of his shoulder. At the same time, he pulled his arms behind him and arched backwards into another stretch, flexing them, his back, and his backside at the same time. Ren snuck a glance over his shoulder to judge the reaction. He smirked to catch both Haru and Goro red-faced and fascinated.

“Honestly...” Morgana stood on his hind legs, using the back of the chair for support, and pointed a paw at the three. “In any case! Haru, you shouldn’t need to push yourself too hard to make comments for the press.”

“O-oh! Um, yes. Um… why?”

Right, the meeting. Ren lingered in that pose a second longer, then eased out of it. He didn’t want to be so distracting they couldn’t get any work done.

“Akechi’s skilled at that sort of thing, so you can let him take the lead,” Morgana was saying. “He may as well make himself useful for once.”

“I’m honored by your praise,” Goro deadpanned.

“I suppose you’re right, but…” Haru frowned at Goro. “I don’t really want to let him do all the talking.”

“If you don’t, you’re going to have to say positive things about him,” Ren pointed out, taking a seat on the bed between the two. It redirected the budding tension between them nicely. “If I were a reporter, the first thing I’d ask is why you waited this long to hire a detective.”

She bowed her head. “That’s a good point… What should I say?”

“Hmmm…”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Morgana said. “The police have been so obsessed with the Phantom Thieves that you’ve started to suspect they haven’t been taking the investigation of your father’s murder seriously, especially since there’s been rumors that the Phantom Thieves weren’t responsible for it. You happened to meet Akechi at a café, and after listening seriously to your doubts, he offered his services. You weren’t sure at first, since you wanted to place your faith in the police, so you told him you’d think about it, but after the debacle with Shido, you’ve now decided to accept.” His sat back down, tail curling around himself. “Since the police are so unreliable,” he concluded smugly.

Ren laughed. “I like it.”

Even Goro chuckled. “That’s sure to annoy the police. This works for me.”

“Weren’t we trying to avoid that?” Haru asked.

“Ha, no. Take it from me: the police are full of ineffectual buffoons. You should always take any opportunity you can get away with to tweak their noses.”

Ren smirked. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot of stories about that. I want to hear more.”

To his pleasure, Goro grinned back. “I’m happy to oblige.”

“Save it!” Morgana commanded. “We still have business to discuss!”

Who’s the leader here, me or you? Ren thought. But he knew Morgana was right, so he nodded. He also wasn’t done flirting by a long shot, so he leaned in close to Goro and whispered in his ear, “Later, then.”

He was immensely satisfied to see him blush and cough into one hand. “Yes, well, in any case,” Goro said quickly, “it’s just an announcement to the press, so it won’t need to take long.” He fussed with his hair for a second, then fixed his gaze on Haru. “It’ll be trickier when we go on TV programs to discuss the matter—”

“TV programs?!” Haru blurted out, gawking at him. “I-is that really necessary?!”

“Yes?” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re supposed to be making a spectacle, remember?”

“O-oh… Yes…” She lowered her gaze, looking nauseous.

“Hey.” Ren slipped an arm around her shoulders. She sat bolt upright. “It’ll be okay. You’ve got this,” he reassured her. “Did Morgana’s suggestion work for you?”

Her nod was meek, but her smile glowed. “Yes… It makes reasonable sense, and it’ll be easy to remember. Thank you, Mona-chan.”

“Of course! Nothing but the best plans for my Haru,” Morgana purred.

“There, you see? We’ve got your back. Even Akechi.” Ren reached out, hooked Goro by the arm, and before he could do more than utter a noise of surprise, pulled him close and rested his wrist on Goro’s shoulder. “Because if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll do everything he can to support you, too.”

Goro heaved a dramatic sigh but didn’t argue. When he touched Ren’s wrist, Ren thought he’d pick his hand off and remove it, but to his pleasant surprise, Goro just… left them both there.

Haru looked more cheerful, too. “You’re so sweet,” she said, leaning on him. “Thank you. I do feel much better now.”

And for that one still and peaceful moment, everything just felt… right. Like a mug full of hot cocoa and a soft, warm blanket over his shoulders as he sat in front of a roaring fire on a snowy winter’s night, he felt perfectly at ease. It surprised even him. He liked Haru and, against his better judgment and the judgment of all his friends, he liked Goro too, but up until now, he’d always thought of them as… distinct? Incompatible? Yes, that was it. Two people who would never get along, no matter what. There was good reason for that, too. But holding them both close, having them both draw close to him, made him the most content he’d been in a long while.

So naturally, it didn’t last. Goro’s phone and Haru’s phone both chimed at the same time, and each of them jumped and pulled away from Ren. The nature of the disturbance became apparent: the chime had been an alarm for their fast-approaching date with the press.

“We’d better go,” Haru said, radiating disappointment. “I don’t want to be late.”

“A wise idea.” Goro tucked his phone away as he stood up. “Shall we be on our way, Miss Okumura?”

She stood too. “Yes...”

“Ah, Haru, before you go!” Morgana said. “Makoto asked me to pass on a message for you. She and Sae have something for you, so once you’re done with the press, head on over to her place. They’ll be ready for you by eight PM, but it’s okay if you’re a little late, she said. Just make sure to text her first either way.”

Haru blinked at him. “Makoto and… Sae do? I wonder what it could be?”

Goro caught Ren’s eye for some reason. “I expect it’s business-related. Sae-san probably found something useful for our end of the ‘investigation.’”

Her expression soured. Then she sighed. “Yes, you’re probably right. All right, thank you, Mona-chan. I’ll be sure to let her know when we’re on the way.”

Ren leaned back on one arm, the other hooked around his leg, which he had folded and perched on the edge of his bed. “Take care, and good luck. I’ll be sure to watch the evening news.”

Haru’s brow smoothed as she smiled at him. He grinned back at her. When she sighed again, it was more wistful than resigned like before. “Thank you, Ren,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on him. Then she turned and left, standing a little taller than before.

Goro let his regard linger on him, too. Ren raised his eyebrows at him, now half-smirking, an implicit challenge—Got something to say?—but he said nothing and only followed Haru downstairs.

Once they were both gone, Ren got up and picked up his laundry basket along with a fresh change of clothes and a clean towel, which he stuck inside his usual duffel bag. Morgana hopped inside as he pulled on his hoodie without bothering with a shirt, then put on his shoes.

“Excellent. Everything’s going according to schedule,” Morgana remarked.

“Mhm.” It really would be nice to have his own shower room, but having a bathhouse almost next door wasn’t so bad. It helped that the laundromat was right in front of it, too. It helped even more to have a sapient talking cat watch his laundry for him while he bathed. He’d have plenty of time for the meeting over at Makoto’s tonight, and look and smell good while he was at it.

Haru’s chauffeur was still where she left him when he dropped her off after school. Normally she preferred to take the train, but with the press conference, driving was faster. Akechi opened the car door for her, and as little as she liked it, she went along with it. It was still tempting to tell the driver to leave before he could get inside, too. But no. They both buckled up, and then they were off.

It was a quiet ride. The driver stuck to driving, already knowing the next destination, and Haru and Akechi both kept their eyes out their respective windows without bothering with the tedium of forced conversation. For that, she was grateful. If it’d been her godawful fiancé, Sugimura, he probably wouldn’t shut up about the good of their future and the company while also getting handsy and ignoring her open discomfort. That was one thing she could give Akechi: he was only so awful a human being as to be the person she hated second-most.

Naturally, though, he had to ruin that by clearing his throat. “We’re almost there,” he remarked, unnecessarily.

Don’t remind me. “Yes,” she murmured.

“Are you nervous?”

You already know I am. “Yes.”

“It’ll be fine. Would you like to review the statements we agreed on, though?”

She shot him a sharp look. His gaze was still directed outside, chin on his hand, but she thought she could see his reflection in the window watching her. “No, thank you.”

“…All right.”

And he fell silent again. She frowned down at her hands, folded in her lap. He’d… probably been making an attempt to be supportive, as Ren had indirectly told him to do. She took a deep breath and ran over Morgana’s suggestion in her head: she was doubtful of the police’s intentions, she ran into Akechi in a café, he was sympathetic and offered his services, she was reluctant at first but after the police botched the Phantom Thief arrest, she decided to hire him after all. She’s not so sure the Phantom Thieves are truly behind her father’s murder and Akechi had been willing to hear her out about that, and… and…

She shook her head, feeling queasy. At that point, she could probably let him take over. It would be believable to the press if she were too distressed to comment further, probably. It was distressing, too, but not for the reasons she’d lead them to think.

Haru glanced up at the chauffeur. The privacy window between the front and back seats was shut. She picked at her seatbelt for a moment, trying to make up her mind. Then she steeled herself and sat up straight.

“Akechi-kun?”

He looked over at her. “What is it?”

She frowned at him. “Why did you come back?”

His eyes lidded, and he settled his chin back on his hand. “Who knows? Maybe I wanted to see how you all handled the idea that all your efforts were meaningless.”

“And what was your conclusion?”

He breathed a faint sigh. “…As usual, Amamiya rose to the occasion.”

She pursed her lips. “Despite everything you said the other day, you really do like him, don’t you.”

He didn’t respond.

She looked down at her lap. Then she took a deep breath. “I like him, too,” she admitted. “I like all my friends, of course, but… he’s especially precious to me. I… love him. That’s why…”

“That’s why?”

Haru lanced him with a glare. “I won’t lose to you, Goro Akechi.”

He stared over at her, thoroughly startled.

There was nothing like a long, hot soak after hours of activity. Ren shut his eyes and breathed in the steam as the water soothed his muscles. The bathhouse was empty, most folks opting to come in after dark, so he was able to enjoy being alone with his thoughts, too.

Haru… and Goro. Goro, and Haru. Heh… He’d just wanted to flirt and bask in their attention, but somehow it’d ended up more serious than that. Well—he was already serious about Haru, and he was serious in a different way about Goro, but back in his bedroom, he hadn’t been thinking about all that. It’d been enough for him to get them drooling. But when the three of them had sat close together, his arms around them both…

He liked Haru because she was at once sweet and sadistic, dainty and dangerous. Neither aspect of her undercut or undermined the rest of her, nor was either side of her false. They were equal and opposite halves of the whole of her personality. He found that duality attractive.

He liked Goro because he was at once collected and a disaster. Back when Ren could only see the superficial parts Goro carefully controlled, he couldn’t stand him, but the more of his own duality he experienced, the fonder he grew of him. Even his obnoxiousness could be charming, now.

But it was more than that, Ren mused as he rested an elbow on the side of the bath. All his friends were disasters, in and outside the Phantom Thieves, and he cared for all of them deeply, but that was separate from being physically and emotionally attracted to them. Only Haru and Goro could claim that particular distinction.

With Haru, there was a sort of… comfortableness there. She’d confided in him about her difficulty with trusting others, but she’d trusted him with herself, even beyond the rest of their friend group. After all, who else would she be so mischievous with to prank with elephant poop coffee? But she could prank him every day for the rest of their lives, and he’d love every second, because being with her was fun. She made him happy. She made him feel special. She made him feel alive.

With Goro… well. Ren had to admit, it was probably fucked up that he cared for a guy who’d blackmailed, betrayed, and tried to kill him. But… god. He was just so damn bad at peopling that it became weirdly endearing instead. Knowing the murder attempt was coming had made it a thrill instead of a threat. Trying to pick apart the truth beneath the lies, battling wits in a game of high-speed Xanatos chess, his desperation, his rage… In his own, unique way, being with Goro was also fun.

Plus they were both drop-dead gorgeous. That was just science fact.

But in terms of a serious, stable relationship, up until yesterday, the obvious choice was Haru. For one, she wasn’t trying to kill him. For another, she hadn’t gotten him arrested, drugged, and beaten. For a third, she wouldn’t go on to murder all his other friends, nor did she have an untold number of murders to her name already, probably. Ren might have been horny and shameless, but he wasn’t stupid. And, in all seriousness, he’d been completely prepared to confess to her, to ask her to be his girlfriend, to give his heart to her and be with her. Those feelings weren’t a lie.

Except that Goro had come back. He’d been an asshole about it to start, but that was just who Goro was, and Ren didn’t necessarily dislike that about him. Still, that alone hadn’t been enough. The more important part was that, once he cut the bullshit, he started helping the team sincerely. And… Maybe it was wishful thinking. But Ren had the sense that Goro had been testing him. To see if he could overcome the pain that had crushed himself. Ren… didn’t want him to have to be alone. Selfish as it was, he wanted his heart, too.

Obviously, there was a conflict there. Goro had murdered Haru’s father. She’d said it point-blank during their battle: she would never, ever forgive him for that. Ren wouldn’t ask or expect her to, either. And Goro didn’t seem to have anything against Haru in particular, but underneath all his bluster and posturing, he was insecure enough to genuinely believe he was unwanted and unlovable. Knowing Haru hated him for good reason no doubt automatically put him on the back foot. Understanding both of these things was why Ren had offered to mediate for the two while they were partnered. No matter how he felt about each of them, he would have to pick one.

Would I?

The realization popped into his head. Ren sat up straight.

Why can’t I have both?

Goro had come back. He’d made it plain that he did feel guilty, that he’d do all he could to atone. Haru might not ever forgive him, but she was already willing to cooperate with him, and it wasn’t as though she’d have to date Goro herself.

Why couldn’t he have them both?

The idea was so intriguing that he had to take a mental step back to fully appreciate it and make sure the heat from the bath wasn’t getting to him. It still held the same allure and appeal after he’d finished his bath, dried off, gotten dressed, and met up with Morgana at the laundromat. He remained absorbed as he transferred his wash to the dryer, so the first time Morgana spoke, he didn’t hear him.

The second time accompanied a swat on the butt, so Ren shut the dryer door and turned around.

“Hm?”

“I said, what are your intentions towards Haru?”

He paused. “Sorry?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Ren!” He pointed a paw at him. “Just because I said nothing at the time doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you posing in front of her and Akechi!”

He grinned, managing to pin the sentiment behind it somewhere between sheepish and brazen. “Ah.”

“Haru is a good girl. She deserves good things,” he continued, tail swishing in agitation. “So if you’re trying to toy with her…”

“It’s not like that,” Ren interrupted, twisting the heat dial to maximum and slipping change into the slot. “I’m serious about her.”

“Ah! Good. I’m glad.” He relaxed, then paused. “Then what was all that with Akechi?”

“Oh, I’m serious about him, too.”

“What!!”

He laughed and turned the dryer on, then sat next to his companion. “I’m pansexual and polyamorous, and I’m into both of them equally. Something wrong with that?”

God, he ought to pull his phone out and take a photo. The look of shock on Morgana’s feline face was absolutely hilarious. “Y-y-y-you can’t do that!! That’s two-timing!!”

“Morgana, do you know what ‘polyamorous’ means?”

“Uh...”

So a definition and explanation later, Morgana’s tail wasn’t quite so frizzy. It was definitely still bent out of shape, though.

“Well, if everyone involved is aware and all right with it… fine,” he conceded grudgingly. “But you know that Haru dislikes Akechi.”

“I know. She doesn’t have to date him, too.”

He heaved a sigh. “It’s not just that. Let’s say for a moment you get the both of them to fall in love with you back. Don’t you think it’s unfair to Haru to have to share her lover with her father’s murderer?”

That was an angle Ren hadn’t quite considered. He folded his arms on the back of his chair and leaned his head on them. “…True.”

“And I won’t tell you you can’t pick Akechi, even though I will tell you you shouldn’t,” Morgana continued. “But in light of that, don’t you think it’s better if you commit to just one of them?”

Ren mulled over that. The thread picked up easily from what he’d contemplated in the bath. As such, it didn’t take long for him to conclude: “No.”

“No?!”

“I can love two people at once. I already do.”

Morgana stomped his paw rapidly, repeatedly. “That’s not the issue here!!”

“Isn’t it?” After a pause to let Morgana settle, Ren continued, “Commitment isn’t about picking just one person. I can commit to them both equally. I don’t want either of them to feel like they’re losing to the other, either.”

“But they hate each other!!”

“Wrong. Goro doesn’t hate Haru, as far as I can tell. And Haru doesn’t hate Goro so much that she’s not willing to give him a chance. Working with him was her own idea.”

Morgana’s tail sank. “That’s… true…”

“Right now, my role as far as they’re concerned is helping them get along while they’re working together. Goro wants to make amends, too, and that’s more than half the battle right there. All I have to do is get Haru to be open to that, and everything will work out.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“No, but if I were the kind of person to not do something just because it might be a terrible idea, I wouldn’t have done half the things I’ve done in my life.” Ren grinned as Morgana snorted. They both knew it was more like 90% in the past year. “I just need to find a way to get them to get along with each other. It shouldn’t be hard.”

“Oh boy,” he groaned. “Famous last words.”

“What, you think I can’t do it?” He sat up straight. “They already both like me. As long as I ease them both into it, they should be able to handle the idea of a poly romance fine.”

“I think you’re overestimating their willingness to share you…”

“Then they’ll just need to be friends first. Hell, they can be lovers, too; I sure as hell don’t mind. I’ll get those two idiots to fall for each other, and then for me, if it’s the last thing I do,” Ren boasted.

Morgana facepalmed. “This is going to end in disaster, I just know it.” Before Ren could protest, he thrust a paw at him. “Listen! I’ll go along with this, but on one condition. I want you to think seriously, right now, about if you can’t make what you want happen. Neither of them ever manage to get along with one another, neither of them is okay with polyamory, the prospect of sharing you is fraying their good will, all the drama is threatening to overturn the team at a critical time, and you have to choose one or lose everything. Who do you choose?”

He opened his mouth; shut it; bowed his head.

“Or are you okay with neither of them?” Morgana challenged. “With the team splitting up just before we can take out the conspiracy once and for all?”

Of course he wasn’t okay with that. Ren’s grip on the back of his chair tightened. He was the leader of the Phantom Thieves. He couldn’t let his personal feelings and desires interfere with the good of the team, let alone sour his friendships. And if they couldn’t fix this rotten society… then it wouldn’t matter worth a damn who he wanted to romance. Much as he didn’t like it, Morgana had a point.

“I… if I absolutely had to pick just one… I suppose I’d pick Haru,” he admitted reluctantly.

Morgana relaxed. “Good. Keep that decision in the back of your head.”

“It won’t come to that, though,” he insisted. “I know I can get them to care about each other.”

He sighed. “I hope you’re right, for Haru’s sake.”

Which annoyed Ren a little. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t thinking of her, too.

“So when are you picking up a present for tonight? You didn’t already get one, right?”

He blinked. “Present? Tonight?”

“For her birthday,” Morgana clarified. “Remember? For the surprise birthday party?”

He stared. “For who?”

“For Haru!! Today is her birthday!!”

He stared harder. “...eh?”

Akechi stared at Haru. Her eyes burned with competitive determination.

Had he really just heard her say what she just did? That she wouldn’t ‘lose to him’? Right after she admitted to being in love with Ren?

Then… that meant she thought of him as a viable rival? For Ren’s affections? Even though they’d shared such an intimate look the other day when she punched him so hard he fell on the damn floor? Even though Ren had basically threatened him into supporting Haru?

Well, no. That wasn’t precisely true, was it? The threatening part. The gears in Akechi’s head clicked and turned. It was technically a threat, but given the context of the situation, it’d probably been a joke to make her feel better. The way Ren had pulled him close had been… pleasant. Akechi had even let his hand linger on Ren’s wrist and enjoy being held by him. But he’d thought of that as… savoring a moment that wasn’t really his, in the same way that he’d benefited from Ren posing and stretching to show off for Haru.

Was she saying that he’d really been showing off for him?

Motions stiff, Haru turned her face forward. Akechi did likewise, thinking. Ren had gone out of his way to save him. Had sat at his bedside at the Takemi Medical Clinic. Had made a dominance display out of him, true, but then offered him a hand up and invited him to return. Had accepted him back right away when he finally folded and agreed to make amends…

It was a tantalizing idea. He found he yearned for it to be true and not Haru’s misconception.

And if it is true? If I really do have a viable chance to be with Ren?

…He’d have to think about it. So many things had changed so abruptly. He didn’t even know if he’d be a free man still two weeks from now, though at least the Phantoms seemed amenable to letting him keep his silence about all his murders as long as he atoned for them going forward. Fortunately, the imminent press statement aside, today was Haru’s birthday. That was more than enough reason to back off for now. But later… if he tested the waters with Ren and Ren seemed receptive…

Akechi smiled as hope flickered to life inside him.

Perhaps this was the real reason he’d returned to Leblanc.

Chapter Text

“…so while I can’t say anything concrete at this time, we have reason to believe that the Phantom Thieves’s declaration to steal Okumura-san’s heart and his later death may actually have been unrelated,” Akechi concluded. Shutters clicked and lights flashed like the birth and death of a thousand stars, but he was left unfazed. “If so, then there may be an even more insidious criminal at large.”

Haru was significantly less comfortable. It’d been harder than she’d thought to recite the scenario that Morgana had given them. The cameras left her flinching, and it was an active effort to not hide behind Akechi like a frightened little girl. As much as she hated this attention, as much as she did have to lean on him to deal with the press, she would not act like he was her protector.

“Akechi-kun, you declared the other day that you would capture all of the remaining Phantom Thieves!” a reporter insisted, her microphone shoved forward. “You aren’t reneging on that, are you?”

“Of course not,” he said with such immediate reassurance that Haru wanted to out him right then and there. “But it’s a matter of scale. If the Phantom Thieves are innocent of murder, then it’s vital to catch the true culprit before they can strike again. And if they are responsible… then my duty remains the same. All that’s different is that I’m specifically in Miss Okumura’s employ now.”

“What about their recent notice against Congressman Masayoshi Shido?” another reporter demanded. “What do you think of their claim that their leader, who allegedly committed suicide, is still alive?”

“It all depends on whether you choose to take their video at face value,” Akechi replied, smooth as silk. Haru wondered if he’d anticipated these questions and rehearsed his answers on his own. “For now, I’d like to point out to anyone concerned that the entire point of a mask is that you don’t recognize the person underneath it.”

“And Congressman Shido himself?” the same reporter pressed. “There’s been no word from him since, and my sources say he’s been hospitalized. If you believe this wasn’t the Phantoms’s doing, do you think it may instead be the work of Okumura-san’s mystery killer, Akechi-kun?”

“That’s difficult to say,” he replied, not so much as batting an eyelash. “Unfortunately, I’m not responsible for the investigation of Shido-san’s case beyond its connection to the Phantom Thieves, so while I wish him a speedy recovery for the good of the nation, I have no further remarks I can offer about him. Since you seem to have no further interest in Okumura-san, though, please allow us to excuse ourselves.”

The other host of reporters shouted questions in a simultaneous, garbled mess. Haru flinched away from them, unable to pick one voice out from another. Akechi rested his slimy hands on her shoulders, and she froze up. If her voice hadn’t been caught in her throat, she just might have screamed. He made some kind of stern remark to the press about being mindful of her emotional state during this trying time before gently turning her around and guiding her inside the Okumura Foods HQ, which would have been hilarious if it wasn’t happening to her. She managed to match his even, confident stride while security formed a wall at their backs. Once they were inside the company building, finally, finally Akechi unhanded her shoulders and gave her back her personal space.

However, it wasn’t until they were both in the elevator and the car had begun to rise that he remarked, “You have absolutely atrocious TV presence.”

Rankling, Haru eyed him. Once upon a time, she would have stewed in silence. However, these days, she was a woman who could say loud and clearly she hated what she hated. “How is it that everything that oozes out of your mouth makes me want to slap it shut?”

He smiled a perfect, sparkling, toothpaste-commercial smile. “It must be my natural charms.”

Every. Single. Thing.

“More seriously, you’re too timid,” he continued, smile fading. “You shrink away from the cameras like you think they’re going to bite you.”

He was right, and that only intensified the sting. “Mind your own business!”

“Unfortunately, this is my business.”

“What about you?” she challenged, riding on the boldness her anger gave her. “What was all that about how you’d still capture the Phantom Thieves? How do you intend to make good on your claim that you’ll catch the true killer?”

“Haha, I have no idea!” he chirped. “But it’s what they expected to hear—what they want to hear. That’s what counts right now. That goes for you, too. If we’re going to distract the enemy, you need to learn how to manipulate a crowd.”

“Like you?” she snapped.

“Yes, like me.”

“I don’t want to be anything like you.”

“You’ll need to at least fake it for the next two weeks. And, if I may say so, if you intend to become CEO of Okumura Foods, I think it would be a valuable skill for—”

She whirled on him. “I don’t. Want to be. Anything. Like you!!”

He paused. He even looked a little hurt. Good. “If you say so, Haru-san.”

“And another thing,” she continued, because she wasn’t ready to stop being angry yet. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

His eyes flew wide in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“Are your ears full of wax, or do you simply like to ignore what people have just said?”

“Er, no, I heard you, but—I did warn you just before we spoke to the press it might be necessary, and you didn’t protest then...”

“I don’t care! Then is not now! And I am telling you now: don’t ever touch me again. Do you understand me?”

His lips thinned, and he flicked his gaze to the floor. She almost wanted him to argue the point so she could keep laying into him. However, he only nodded once. “...Very well. I understand, Miss Okumura.”

And that also irritated her, the way he used the English ‘Mi-su’ before her name like she was some sort of mob princess from the movies. But on the other hand, she didn’t entirely dislike it. She definitely didn’t dislike his implicit acknowledgment of who she was as related to whom he’d killed. So, as much as she really wanted to pick a fight, she let it drop.

The elevator dinged when they reached the top floor. Haru strode out to the CEO’s office, ignoring Akechi as he followed her, and yanked the door open.

The CEO’s chair swiveled around, and Sugimura sneered at her from the other side of the desk.

She recoiled as if at the sight of a snake. Honestly, she’d rather have a snake. At least snakes were beneficial for gardens. Clenching her fists, she regained her venom and drew herself up to her full height. “Oh, Sugimura-san. Where’s Takakura-san?” she asked with as much cool politeness as she could muster under the circumstances.

“Never mind that. What,” he demanded, “do you think you’re doing, Haru?”

‘Cool’ dropped down into ‘freezing.’ “I bet your pardon?”

“Don’t play coy with me, you little tart! I saw you talking to the press, stirring up fresh scandals!” he shot at her, rising to his feet. “Right outside the front door, even! Do you want Okumura Foods’s company stock to keep dropping?!”

Already riled up from before and still eager to spill blood, Haru shouted, “I don’t give a damn about that! I want justice for my father!”

“How dare you raise your voice at me?! Is this the influence of your scruffy new ‘friends’? Leave justice to the police! There’s no reason for you to waste money on a two-bit, fangirl-bait joke of a detective!”

Haru barked out a laugh. For once, Sugimura was more right than he knew. Thankfully, her hatred for him meant it was easy to lie back, “The police haven’t done or found a thing. If I want to hire someone who’ll take my father’s death seriously, that’s my business!”

“You have no business without me!” Nettled, Sugimura circled around the CEO’s desk and moved to grab her. She snatched her hand away just in time to evade the first attempt, but not the second. He yanked her forward as she struggled. “The marriage contract that your father drew up stipulates that I’m to receive heavy reparations if the marriage falls through. No matter what, Okumura Foods is going to be mine. So you’d better stop talking back if you know what’s good for you!”

“Stop it! Let go of me! Let go!” Haru shoved him and ripped her hand out of his grip at the same time.

Sugimura’s face went red, and he whipped his hand around to slap her—

Or not, because suddenly Akechi was there, blocking his wrist with his own, then turning Sugimura’s hand around to shake as he deftly stepped in between him and her.

“How do you do, Sugimura-san?” he said with pleasant cheer, as if the man hadn’t just insulted him less than a minute ago. While Sugimura stared at him like he’d just been assaulted by a Martian, Akechi affected a doleful tone and continued, “Okumura-san’s unfortunate passing has been deeply unsettling for you and your fiancée both, hasn’t it? I understand. Such tragedies often place stress on otherwise happy relationships.”

Sugimura smacked his hand off, then shook his own as if trying to dislodge a blob of mud. “We don’t need the services of a charlatan,” he snapped.

“A charlatan? Oh dear… I’m very sorry you have that impression of me, sir. If you like, I would be happy to share my credentials and case-to-resolution record. It’s quite high, I assure you.”

“I’m not interested. You have no place here, boy!”

Calling Akechi ‘boy’ when Sugimura was only in his twenties was a scream to Haru. She held her tongue and let her two least favorite people verbally duke it out, though.

“Not interested? I’m surprised you would say that,” Akechi replied, now affecting apprehensive puzzlement. “Aren’t you worried for your safety?”

Sugimura paused. Haru knew then he was going to lose this fight. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, safety?” he demanded.

“You mean you don’t know, sir?”

Haru covered her mouth and turned her head away to keep herself from betraying her laughter. Her shaking shoulders almost gave her away, though.

“Oh dear… It’s all right, Miss Okumura. I’ll explain,” he added, the absolute picture of benevolent concern.

“Explain what? Explain yourself!” Sugimura demanded. The note of anxiety undercut his attempt at authority.

“Of course, Sugimura-san,” Akechi said mildly, folding his hands in front of himself. “I’ve only begun preliminary investigations, so I don’t have any solid conclusions yet, but Okumura-san’s death bore some superficial similarities to the untimely deaths of several of his business rivals. It’s thus possible that his death was murder by assassination.”

“A-assassination?!”

“Yes. Corporate espionage, sabotage, and even hired kills are dreadfully common in today’s society. A rival stifled by or even simply jealous of Okumura-san’s booming business could have hired a corporate assassin to eliminate him in the hopes of stealing his business. In which case, as his intended successor, you are a likely next target, Sugimura-san.”

Haru would have given half her fortune to get a high-def photograph of Sugimura’s expression just then so she could frame it, mount it on the wall, admire it, and then burn it.

“Poor Miss Okumura has been beside herself with worry for you, her beloved fiancé, as a result,” Akechi continued, himself the portrait of sympathy. “You’ll have to forgive her if she’s a bit… hysterical.” He smiled and leaned in with a hand next to his mouth, as if including him in his own little conspiracy. “You know how women are.”

“That… is true,” Sugimura, noted misogynist, agreed. His ruffled feathers settled, and once he looked her over again, he smirked. “So you’re worried about me, hmm, Haru? It’s about time you started acting like my fiancée. I still don’t like that you didn’t confer with me about this, but… I suppose I can let it slide this time.”

How generous of you, she spat inside her head. She almost spat it out loud, too, but Akechi had pushed Sugimura’s buttons with expert ease; morbid curiosity made her want to see how he’d handle the rest. She kept her hands clasped and head demurely down. That’d appease Sugimura, the contemptible prick.

She was right, too. He ignored her as if she wasn’t important to sneer back at Akechi. “That said, is there really a need for a private detective? It’s obvious the culprits were those damned Phantom Thieves.”

“That possibility isn’t completely out of the picture,” Akechi lied smoothly. “But after that recent notice of theirs, it’s clear that there’s either been a major mismanagement of the supposed apprehension of their leader by the police, or the position of leader of the troupe is far less fixed than had been previously assumed. Either way, the culprit is still at large.”

“Urgh… I suppose you have a point,” Sugimura growled. “I-if there’s danger, I suppose there’s no harm in a little investigation.” He got up in Akechi’s face, thrusting a finger up at his chin. “But make no mistake: Haru is my fiancée. Make sure you keep things strictly professional, do you understand me, boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Sugimura walked past him towards the door, then paused. “Oh, that’s right. Acting President Takakura’s out proposing a staff meeting for tomorrow. He asked me to pass that on to you, Haru, since it’s about you and your new hire, so make sure you show up at five sharp.”

Ugh. Exactly what she needed. “I’ll remember that,” she said.

“We’ll be discussing your little worries, among other things. I understand your concerns now, but the board might be less understanding. After all,” and Sugimura let out a condescending little laugh as he smirked at Akechi, “a detective’s only as good as the results he gets. Isn’t that right, boy?”

“Indeed he is. That’s why Miss Okumura has put me in her employ,” Akechi replied, tone placid even with the slightest stress on ‘her.’ He tilted his head and smiled that same brilliant toothpaste-commercial smile from before. “Though, since you still fear I’m a two-bit, fangirl-bait joke of a detective, I understand completely if you want to find more reliable protection for yourself on your own time, Sugimura-san.”

Sugimura grimaced. Then he stalked out of the office and slammed the door behind him.

Haru waited ten full seconds, long enough for his stomping to fade into the distance. Then she clutched her belly and laughed, all but dancing over to what was once her father’s chair and flinging herself into it. As it spun lazily around, Akechi’s pleased smile came into view, vanished, and appeared again.

“I take it you approve, Miss Okumura,” he remarked once she came to a stop.

“That man is the only man in this world I hate more than you,” she replied, smiling back. “So yes, I suppose I rather do approve.”

He took the jab in stride and bowed deep at the waist, hand over his chest as if he were a butler. “It’s my pleasure to serve.”

She snorted, smile slinking away. “You don’t need to lie that much.”

Akechi straightened and said nothing, expression pleasantly bland.

After a moment of awkward silence, Haru scooted the chair closer to the desk and inspected the paperwork still there, in case Sugimura had been snooping. Unfortunately, she barely understood any of it. It probably didn’t make any difference anyway with Takakura currently in charge. She pursed her lips as she flipped through the pages. When she’d been little, her father had happily explained business to her—how it worked, how to make deals, so on and so forth. But as she’d grown older, and he’d grown more frustrated with his father’s mismanagement of the company, he stopped treating her like his successor and started treating her like a prop. If he’d lived… if his change of heart had been allowed to stand… would he be teaching her now how to take over the family company? Or…

She shook her head and looked up. To her surprise, she caught Akechi with his eyes downcast, expression melancholy. He snapped out of it a second later, returning to his earlier fake smile.

“Yes?” he prompted.

But she scrutinized him without a word. Had she truly caught him off-guard and glimpsed the boy behind the mask? Or had that, too, been staged to guide her to that conclusion and manipulate her view of him?

She really couldn’t stand Akechi. All her social anxiety, all her trust issues, gushed back to the surface whenever she was with him.

“Sugimura’s part of the conspiracy, isn’t he?” she finally asked. “Was he just pretending not to know who you are?”

“Being attached to Shido’s web doesn’t mean being privy to all the conspiracy’s secrets,” he replied, shrugging. “The vast majority only knew he employed an assassin who enacted mental shutdowns, and were content with that. Pressing too hard could have dire consequences, after all.” He smiled whitely. “So rest assured, his ignorance was no act.”

She allowed herself a brief smile at the jab. It faded when she reflected on the rest of his words. Now she was the one with an assassin in her employ. However, if everything worked out as she hoped, he’d never work as an assassin ever again.

Even if it was damned tempting to ask him to kill Sugimura. God, it would solve so many of her problems.

But no. She was better than that. Akechi might or might not regret murdering everyone in his way, but she wouldn’t use him like that just because he’d do it. Shaking her head, Haru stood up. “I need to go find Takakura-san and talk to him. I’d rather confirm this meeting for myself.”

“Shall I accompany you?”

She hesitated. She probably should bring him along, but…

“I understand. I’ll introduce myself to him on my own time later, then,” Akechi said, reading her mind, or maybe just her body language. “For now, if you have no further need for me, I’ll excuse myself.”

She nodded, relieved. The sooner they were no longer together, the better. He really brought out the worst in her. “It won’t take me long. You may as well go now. I have to head to Makoto’s after this, anyway.” She paused. She felt a little better now—certainly a smidgen more charitable. So… “If she has anything for me that’s relevant to you, I’ll show you later. Oh, and if there is a meeting, I’ll let you know if you need to show up for it.”

He nodded back. “Much appreciated. Good night, then.” He turned for the exit. Before he left, though, he paused. “Oh, and Haru-san...”

“What?”

“Happy birthday.”

Stunned into silence, she could only stare as he slipped out and shut the door quietly behind him.

Ren jogged through the underground mall in Shibuya, eyes sweeping back and forth for something to stand out to him. Morgana had chewed him out for not paying more attention, but he could swear no one actually told him that the meeting at Makoto’s was supposed to be a surprise birthday party for Haru. He had a sneaking suspicion everyone figured he would just know, or at least that someone else had told him. Everyone’s faith in him as leader was nice, but he had a lot on his mind at literally all times. A little hand-holding wouldn’t be totally out of line.

Well, whatever. Things happened. He still had a couple of hours to pick out a gift, get it wrapped, and get over to Makoto’s before Haru showed up. Thank god Morgana had said something.

Speaking of whom: “Ren! You can! Slow down! Already!” Morgana insisted from the duffel bag on his back. Oops.

Ren shifted from a jog to a power walk. “It’s a big mall. Gotta take a quick look around at least once before I can pick something,” he murmured.

“You already paid the lady at the flower shop to make a bouquet!”

That was true. She’d even given him a discount thanks to all the afternoons he’d spent there working part-time. Reading up on the language of flowers had made him actually quite good at it. But… “Not good enough,” he replied. “If we were just hanging out, a bouquet’d be fine. But it’s her birthday. A bouquet is a present accompaniment, not a present on its own.”

“I’m glad you’re taking this seriously for her sake, but it’s not good to rush—yes! Much better!” he said as Ren slowed to a halt. “It’s because there’s not much time that you need to move with consideration and think carefully before you choose!”

“Akechi...”

“Right, like Akechi!” Morgana paused, then pulled himself up onto Ren’s shoulder. “Wait, what about Akechi?”

On his shoulder, he could see what Ren saw: Goro with his arms folded and a hand on his chin, standing in front of the make-up shop, brows furrowed in deep consideration. Ren exchanged a glance with Morgana, then walked up to him, hands in his pockets. He thought Goro might be too lost in thought to notice, but he glanced up at him once he was a couple of steps away.

“Oh, Amamiya,” he said. “Here for gift shopping, too?”

Even Goro knew it was Haru’s birthday? Ren found himself somewhere between ruffled and impressed. “Yeah.”

“Did you have anything in particular in mind to get Haru-san?”

“I’m still working on that.” A beat. “How about you?”

“Mmm...” He turned his gaze back towards—Ren tracked his line of sight—the row of perfumes, it looked like. “I thought a discreet, floral fragrance might suit her, but… the more I think on it, the more I doubt she’d appreciate receiving a gift like that from me.”

“Why’s that?”

Goro lowered his hand and gave him a rueful smile. “Well, to be more precise, I think it might be inappropriate for any boy to buy make-up for a girl with whom he’s not romantically involved. There’s an implication there—a message saying, ‘This is how I want you to look,’ or in this case, smell. Do you really think Haru-san would appreciate that, coming from me?”

Point taken. “Definitely not.”

“I thought not. But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind it from you, her boyfriend…?”

Ren held back a smile. Was Goro fishing for information? How cute. “I’m not her boyfriend.”

“Oh? You’re not?” He looked at him with eyes wide, as if in total innocence. What a piece of shit, Ren thought with affection. “You two seemed awfully friendly from my view from the floor, though…”

He chuckled. “Jealous?”

Goro dropped the act enough to roll his eyes. “Hardly.”

Ren stepped over to stand next to him. “We’re not dating. Yet,” he clarified, looking over the make-up. Floral perfume did seem like a nice gift for Haru. But… hm. Maybe Goro was right about it being presumptuous. Besides, make-up in general was more Ann’s thing, though he didn’t think Haru would dislike it.

“…So you intend on asking her out?”

Well, damned if that wasn’t an awkward question. Technically, yes, but Ren didn’t want to make Goro give up. “I’m thinking about it.”

“Oh? Don’t you like her?”

“I like all my friends.”

“All of them? Does that include me?” Goro asked, smiling as if it were a joke.

Ren smiled back. “Yeah.”

He choked, blushed, and coughed into a closed hand. Did he seriously not expect a positive answer? God, he could hug him right now. Probably a bad idea in public, though. Goro obsessed so damn much about his image. “I-in any case, it seems we won’t find anything promising here. Since we’re here for the same thing, would you care to take a look around together?”

“Sure.”

Morgana grumbled in his ear. Ren ignored him and walked, step in step, with Goro through the underground mall, weaving around clusters of shoppers as necessary.

“So how’d it go with the press?” he added.

“Fine enough. Haru-san was rather agitated afterwards, though. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you tonight.” When Ren didn’t respond to this, he continued, “I left after that. For all that I’m searching for a material gift, the best present I could give her is an evening without me.”

Ren scratched his cheek. “Do you dislike her?”

“Hm? No, not really, but it’s obvious she dislikes me. I don’t expect a birthday present to magically fix that, but...” He shrugged. “It will make both our lives easier if we can get along a bit better.”

Ren gave Morgana a knowing smile over his shoulder. Morgana grumped at him back, but said nothing. “Glad to hear you’re taking this seriously,” he told Goro.

He laughed faintly, turning a smile towards him. “I’m not completely ungrateful to you, you know.”

He grinned. “Oh yeah? That’s news to me.”

His smile turned wry, and he shrugged. “I suppose it’s not a fact I broadcast.” His pace slowed as they turned a corner and he glanced to the sweets store coming up on the right. “Who’s handling the cake, incidentally?”

“Not me,” Ren replied, which was the extent of his knowledge on the matter.

“Hmmm...”

Goro headed inside, so Ren followed him. As usual, it smelled heavenly inside. Goro re-assumed a similar contemplative pose from before in front of the display of cakes, cookies, and chocolates. Ren crouched down in front of it and to the side of Goro, so he wouldn’t block his view while still getting a good look for himself.

“Who is taking care of that?” he murmured over his shoulder.

“Lady Ann said she would.” Morgana’s whiskers trembled as he added dreamily, “I’m sure she’ll pick out the most divine cake! I can’t wait to have a taste…!”

Ren chuckled and scratched him under the chin, then turned his attention back to the display. But…

“I wouldn’t recommend sweets in your case,” Goro said behind him.

He glanced back. “Why’s that?”

Goro’s attention was still fixed on a set of cakes. There were a few slices of uji matcha cake today; Ren made a mental note to come back tomorrow to see if he could grab a slice for Ann. She loved that kind. “I’m selecting a gift for Haru-san with the knowledge that she doesn’t like me in mind,” he explained. “So my focus is on ephemeral gifts.”

“Ephemeral?”

“Yes. Things that won’t last, because they’ve been used up or consumed. Something she can enjoy for a moment, then toss out.”

Ren paused. “That… sounds kind of depressing, when you put it like that.”

Goro chuckled. “Do you think so? But it’s better that way. Haru-san will have something nice, without having to deal with a lingering reminder of me.” He lowered his hand from his chin. “But you’re one of her dear friends, so something like jewelry—a long-lasting gift that she can wear every day if she so chooses—would be better for you.”

That second of sarcasm aside, he had a point. Ren considered it. There was a jewelry store in the mall… Maybe he ought to take a look, see if they had anything nice on sale.

On the other hand, it suddenly struck him, Goro wasn’t wrong about Haru disliking him. If Ren intended on asking her out, he ought to think of something that wasn’t one of his suggestions verbatim.

Something lasting, though… Ren rubbed the back of his neck, cricking it back and forth as he thought. That’d be a good complement to a bouquet of flowers, something that by its nature would only last a short while. He liked Akechi’s thought of something that would remind Haru of him, too. He didn’t think he could do something that would stand out more than flowers, and getting potted plants felt redundant. But… Oh. Oho. Come to think of it, the sundries store had a vase, hadn’t it? He was sure he remembered that from when he jogged past earlier. Not only could Haru put the bouquet in there, it’d be the perfect spot for any future bouquets. He smiled, pleased with himself. Perfect. He’d have to head over there after this.

“Do you know what Haru-san’s favorite flavor is, Amamiya?” Goro asked then.

Ren paused. She struck him as the type to like strawberries, but honestly, he was probably just assuming that because she wore pink. Based on interactions they’d actually had… “Coffee, maybe?”

“Chocolate,” Morgana supplied. “I don’t know if it’s her favorite, but she does like it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He approached the counter and asked the lady behind it after the truffles on the bottom row. A moment later, she’d selected eight fine chocolate truffles for him, four milk, four dark, and wrapped them up in a pair of fine, four-slotted boxes with dark brown ribbon holding the two together. Ren watched over his shoulder as he addressed the gift tag in impeccable handwriting: To Miss Okumura, From Goro Akechi, Happy 18^th birthday. Then he leaned back, blinking, as Goro accepted a gift bag and offered it to him. Assuming he just wanted him to hold it as he paid, Ren took it, but Goro didn’t try to take it back as the two left the shop.

“Amamiya, could you please do me a favor?” he asked instead as they began to circle the mall.

“’Sup?”

“Could you give that to Haru-san for me tonight?”

“Why not do it yourself?”

Goro smiled at him. “Hm? Didn’t I say so earlier? The best gift I could possibly give her is an evening without me.” He gestured at the gift bag with the chocolates. “That’s just an extra.”

Ren considered this. “Huh.”

“…Besides which,” he added, “let’s be honest: none of your friends like me, do they?”

“Who knows? You’d have to ask them yourself.”

He frowned. Then he glanced down at Morgana. “Well, ‘Mona’?”

“No comment,” said the not-cat.

He sighed, head tilting right. “You don’t need to be so coy about it… I’d rather you two just be straightforward with me.”

Ren smiled. “You do, do you?”

“Yes. I do. I’m tired of playing games.”

“Oh, really.”

Irritation flashed across his eyes. He shook his head. “In any case, it’s obvious you’d all have more fun partying without me there. I know dealing with me has been… trying. I expect not all of your friends believe I’ve really turned over a new leaf, either, so having me around would put them on their guard. That doesn’t sound like much fun, does it?”

“It doesn’t,” Ren admitted.

“See? I might be self-absorbed, but I’m not completely oblivious to others’s feelings,” he said dryly. He paused, then added in a normal tone, “If it were me, I know I’d prefer to be able to relax at a party.”

“Have you been to many parties?”

“None I could relax at.” His lips thinned, and his gaze dropped to the tiled floor. “…You know I don’t have any real friends,” he murmured.

Ren regarded him for a handful of seconds. Then he stepped closer, enough for their arms to brush together. “You have me.”

He wasn’t entirely sure how Goro would take that, so he was pleasantly surprised when he snorted and broke into a laugh. There was something sweet and genuine about it, and it made Ren smile to hear it.

“I thought you might spout a line like that,” he said when he calmed, hand on his chin as he smiled back, “but it’s just like you to actually say it.”

“You think I’m lying?”

Goro came to a halt, lowering his hand. Ren stopped a half-step after him. Shoppers streamed around them, some of them shooting dirty looks. This didn’t bother Ren, but maybe it did Goro, because he slipped over to a bare spot on one side of the hallway. Ren went with him, settling against the wall with him. He waited the moment it took for Goro to collect himself; when he looked up and met his eyes, Ren listened.

“It’s not that I think you’re lying,” Goro murmured. “Even before I came back with… news on the present state of affairs, you were patient and inviting. Your domination stunt aside,” he added, tone briefly wry. Ren flashed him a saucy grin, and he rolled his eyes before sobering. “I can’t think of any merit for you to string me along like that when you thought you’d won. It’s just…” He bowed his head. “I can’t think of any merit for you to mean it, either.”

Ren considered this for a long moment. “You’re not used to relationships without strings attached, are you?” he remarked softly.

He glanced to one side and said nothing.

“Do you think of me as a friend?” he pressed.

Goro blinked over at him. Then he arched his eyebrows. “…What would you say if I said ‘no’?”

“I’d say that makes me pretty sad.”

He smiled. “Really? Why’s that?”

“It’s always sad when you like someone who doesn’t like you back.”

His smile broadened and he laughed a little. “Well then, it’s lucky for you that ‘no’ would be a lie.”

Ren laughed too. “Didn’t you say something earlier about being tired of playing games?”

“Obviously, that was also a lie,” Goro said, eyes twinkling. Ren admired what it did to his already handsome face. “I could never get tired of playing with you.”

“What a coincidence. I feel the exact same way about you.”

Their laughter intertwined like the fingers of lovers clasping hands. Ren had to admit, he never expected to have a Moment with Goro in the middle of a busy mall, but he sure wasn’t against it.

“So, to continue what we were discussing earlier…” Goro said, eyes averted, hand back on his chin. “You said you were considering asking Haru-san out… If you do, by when do you plan to do it?”

Ren gave him a considering look. He could feel Morgana staring at him too from his duffel bag. It… was a good question, wasn’t it? He wasn’t sure if he liked putting a time limit on love, but he always did get his best results while under pressure, so… “Before the 24^th, definitely,” he said. “But not before the 18^th. So, sometime between the 19^th and the 23^rd, I think?”

“I see. That makes sense.” Goro fell into silence for a moment; then he smiled and chuckled to himself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. A passing thought, that’s all.” He lowered his hand and regarded Ren, one corner of his mouth turned up. “In any case, I have work to do, and you still need to finish your shopping, so I’d best head home. If you think it wouldn’t disrupt everyone’s good time, tell the others I said hello, won’t you?”

He nodded once, half-smiling back.

Goro flashed him a broad smile and half-turned towards the nearby stairs, one hand raised in farewell. “Goodnight, then, Amamiya. Goodnight, Morgana.”

“Take care on your way home, Akechi,” Morgana replied, tone neutral. He waited until Goro had climbed the stairs out and left the mall, then all but stuck his nose in Ren’s ear. “All right, I’ll admit it. It looks as though Akechi is trying to put a better foot forward. At the least, he’s clearly given a lot of thought to how Haru and everyone feel.”

“Yeah,” Ren agreed, smiling.

“That doesn’t mean things will go the way you hope, though. Don’t forget that.”

“I think it will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Ren turned a smirk on Morgana as he strode for the sundries store. Voice kept low, he purred, “What kind of thief would I be if I couldn’t steal a pair of willing hearts?”

He snorted, but at least he sounded amused. “You have a point there. All right. Let’s see just how much you’ve polished your skills as a phantom thief, then!”

Despite himself, Akechi smiled at his phone as he finished blow-drying his hair. Ren had sent him several photos of Haru’s birthday party, from her blowing out the candles to everyone huddled together to open presents to several shots of everyone hanging out to simply have fun. According to his commentary, the others had said “hello” back, and Haru had even enjoyed his present. Of course, she’d “enjoyed” those truffles by promptly sharing them with everyone, which is what he figured she’d do. If he were in her shoes, he’d do his best to graciously eliminate a gift from someone he hated by sharing it with his friends and getting rid of it all in one shot.

That being said…

These chocolates are delicious?? You have good taste, said one of Ren’s texts, accompanied by a photo of everyone savoring a piece. Sae must have taken that photo. It was fine if his present didn’t change Haru’s feelings on him. It seemed to have bought him some good will from everyone else, and most importantly, from Ren.

He unplugged the blow-dryer, put it away, and put on his night clothes. Then he brought his phone with him to the living room and set it on the table, next to his laptop. As he’d told him earlier, he’d done some work upon arriving at his apartment—specifically, researching the remains of the conspiracy and the movements of its biggest members. Haru had texted him to let him know that there was indeed going to be a meeting and that the board members specifically wanted them both there. He’d sent back an acknowledgment and no more. There were still conspiracy members in the board, he was certain, but… as he’d told the others, the internal affairs of external organizations was beyond his purview. Shido had sold his services as a hired killer to put Okumura and men like him in his debt, but Akechi’s role beyond that was only to keep a close eye on the Shadows of such men to make sure they weren’t growing any ambitions beyond what Shido found acceptable. Those men’s underlings were generally beneath Shido’s notice.

At the time, Akechi had found that a silver lining, however tarnished; now, it would have been convenient to have that information so he could sell it to the Phantom Thieves for their good will. Oh, well. He’d have to find out the old-fashioned way. Despite everything, he was still a detective. And if he could get on the Phantom Thieves’s good side…

He leaned an elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. Ren… thought of him as a friend. He’d insisted on it. That had stoked his candle-flame of hope. The way he’d talked made Akechi feel valued… wanted. Perhaps (dare he assume?) even needed. He could deal with losing one wish if it meant getting another granted, and if he could forge a place at his side… He slid his fingertips up his freshly-washed neck, imagined they were Ren’s, and indulged in a shiver.

It was true that, in some aspects, he couldn’t stand him. But it was also true that he always had fun playing with him. When things were good, he liked him, felt comfortable around him—even happy. As the ace detective facing off against the phantom thieves, he’d lost, and it was only a matter of time before the public found out and spurned him, but…if he could secure Ren’s love, when he kept himself so unshackled and free, wouldn’t that be the greatest victory of all?

But just because he knew now it was possible didn’t mean it would be easy. He had a time limit of two weeks. If he wanted to deepen their relationship, first he’d have to get on better terms with his friends. Ren valued them more than anything. Getting on his good side—fourteen days left to steal his heart, Akechi thought with a smile—would require making up with at least a majority of them. Tricky, but… he’d have plenty of opportunities over the next two weeks. He just had to play it straight.

First would be a group apology. He was overdue for that regardless. When he thought back to how he’d threatened them yesterday… Akechi rubbed his temples, grimacing at the memory. At the time, he’d meant it with all his furious heart. After talking to Shido, though, the idea of pursuing revenge against anyone anymore felt so… pointless. No, it didn’t ‘feel’ pointless, it was pointless. Best to lay his stupid hostility to rest sooner rather than later. Nothing would change before that.

Then, afterwards… there was his investigations, but that was the baseline of what he needed to do to regain—no, gain their good will. Exams were coming up; he could charm Ryuji, Ann, and perhaps Yusuke by helping them study. With Makoto, he could probably use their mutual relationship with her sister. Maybe help her strengthen her bond with Sae. Not that Akechi had a strong bond with Sae, but Makoto believed otherwise. Just trying could potentially go a long way.

Morgana… Morgana would be tougher. Akechi honestly had no idea how to secure the approval of a weird feline bandit who insisted he was human. Maybe he could offer to try to investigate into whoever he was before he’d been transformed…? Akechi didn’t think he’d get far with that, since Morgana was missing his memories, but the thought might count.

Futaba was a lost cause. Rightfully so, too. The best he could do in her case was to give her no further reason to loathe him.

Haru… The matter of her father aside, Haru was his romantic rival. Winning Ren’s heart would probably mean securing her eternal enmity. He could deal with that. Standing in front of her as she’d been seated at the Okumura Foods CEO chair had brought back… unpleasant memories. He rubbed his arm as he thought of all the times he’d stood just like that in front of Shido’s desk. He’d told Ren he didn’t dislike her, but he didn’t really like her, either. It was hard to like someone who hated you, no matter how sound their reason for it was.

He shook his head, then checked his laptop. After some digging, and a password to the Okumura Foods internal servers that Haru had given him with her earlier texts, he’d found a recent staff directory for the entire company. Considering the company’s size, it was sure to be valuable, especially since it was the stagnant upper echelons that would matter most. He’d started downloading it just before his shower, and saw it had finished.

Akechi smiled to himself as he opened it up. Haru had said she’d never, ever forgive him for killing her father, and he believed her. In which case, if he wanted to win Ren’s heart with a minimum of drama, he could at least ensure Haru accepted defeat with grace by helping her scour away the scum clogging her inherited company’s inner workings.

Chapter Text

More than ever, Haru wished she had Ren by her side. That she had to have Akechi instead, here in a meeting room at Okumura Foods HQ, privately discussing their strategy at Takakura’s meeting in half an hour, only made her more nauseous with anxiety. She was all for pulling up the weeds in the board associated with Shido and her father, but to then take control of the company herself… Even if it was safe to do so, she didn’t have the experience to run such a huge company, or any company at all. For goodness’s sake, she couldn’t even manage to speak for herself; Akechi had had to offer to ‘represent’ her at the meeting and use that as an excuse to let her keep her mouth shut. At this point, they’d more or less wrapped up their strategy, but… she sighed, gaze bowed.

Akechi, seated two chairs away, regarded her with thinned lips. “Haru-san? May I offer you some friendly advice?”

She frowned at him. “What is it?”

“You need to project more confidence. As you are now, you’re too timid. I may not know anyone on the Okumura Foods board, but I can guarantee they see you as bait to be gobbled up.”

He was almost certainly right, but she glared at him anyway. “Do you have any useful advice?”

“Well… yes, actually, if you’re willing to accept it.”

That gave her pause. “Tentatively so.”

“Could you stand up then, please?”

She did, and he joined her. After he pushed the chairs in to give them both space, he regarded her with folded arms and a hand on his chin.

“Yes, you’re definitely too timid,” he remarked. “Not that projecting that image can’t be useful, but the board won’t take you seriously as you are. So, let me teach you a useful trick for dealing with adults.” He raised one hand. “Stand up straight, arms at your side. Take a deep breath—good—now square your shoulders as you breathe out. Lift your chin and keep your gaze straight ahead.”

Haru followed his instructions as he gave them. Mostly it left her feeling stiff and unnatural, but she had to admit, by the end she felt a bit stronger.

Akechi watched her, then nodded. He walked several steps away, then turned to face her. “Now walk towards me,” he said, “as if you intend to destroy me.”

That was motivating. She almost smiled, even. She fixed her stare on him, imagined she had her trusty ax in hand, and walked.

Halfway there and he beamed. “Excellent! You’re much more threatening this way! Practice that stance and stride until you’re comfortable with it, and—uh, Haru-san?”

She didn’t stop walking. When she reached him, she pressed a hand to his chest and kept moving forward. Akechi, now baffled, was forced to move with her, and he stumbled and retreated for several feet until she had him pinned to the wall.

At that point, she leaned in and gave him her most poisonously sweet smile. “Like that?”

“Er—yes. Like that,” he replied, blinking rapidly.

And that did feel good. That uncertainty, that intimidation that flickered in his normally smug, superior eyes… She liked the way it made her feel. Like she dominated him. Like she could crush him under her heel if she so chose. It sent a little thrill up her spine, made her want to push him down, down, all the way to the ground just to see the fear on his hateful, handsome face—

Then she realized she was experiencing attraction towards Akechi, Akechi, and sheer revulsion made her yank her hand off and back away a step.

In the intensely awkward silence that followed, he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. “I thought you’d have a knack for it,” he remarked. “You act sweet on the surface, but underneath simmers quite a bit of rage, doesn’t it?”

She frowned. Already the moment had passed. Whether that was a good thing or not, she didn’t know. “What makes you so sure?”

He smiled his toothpaste-commercial smile. “As they say, the devil knows its own.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Let’s try that walk again.”

Half an hour later, Akechi opened the doors into the 5 o’ clock meeting room, and Haru strode in. The rest of the board, which had already gathered, rapidly fell silent. She lifted her chin and slid her gaze across each member in turn (“look at them as if you’re deciding who will die first,” Akechi had advised her); then she smiled her best heiress smile, sweeter and more poisonous than ever. With grace and elegance, she floated down onto her seat, which Akechi held out and then pushed in for her, and sat with back straight like a queen surveying her subjects.

Already everyone looked confused and uncomfortable. Oh, this was exciting.

“I apologize,” she said primly. “Have I arrived late?”

“No, you’re exactly on time, Haru,” Takakura said, recovering from his own surprise to fold his hands. He sat in the CEO’s chair, opposite her own. How apropos. Glancing at her companion, he continued, “Goro Akechi-kun, wasn’t it? Why don’t you have a seat as well?”

“Thank you,” said Akechi, who remained standing at Haru’s right hand, “but I’m fine where I am, sir.”

He nodded, seeming unperturbed by this. Haru, however, noted more than a few frowns and dark looks among the rest of the board, including Sugimura, who sat at her right and thus now had an obstacle between him and her. She made a show of pulling out a notepad and pencil from her purse, flipped it open, poised her pencil, and turned her regard back to the board. The enemy, Akechi had encouraged her to think of them. It’s you and me versus all of them.

She smiled again. The drum of her heart wasn’t just from nerves this time. “Thank you for your patience, then, Takakura-san, everyone,” she said. “Akechi-kun will be speaking for me this meeting. Please, no one pay me any mind.”

That also got a round of surprise, which Haru found bitterly amusing. These men were all too willing to ignore her when she wanted to be heard, and now they were shocked when she invited them to do so? It really was easy to think of them as the enemy, even if her only ally was Goro Akechi.

“Haru-chan,” said one of her least favorites, one of the ones who liked to treat her like she was a scatterbrained toddler, “we all understand your grief over your father’s death, which we all share—” A round of assenting murmurs rippled through the room, none of which Haru trusted. “—but a detective? It really is too much. Things like this will only make the public lose even more of their faith in our company.”

Haru raised her eyebrows at him, then looked up at Akechi. When he met her eyes, she nodded him on in silence. Honestly, she even explicitly told these crusty old men to talk to him instead of her, and they take that as a cue to address her regardless?

“If I may,” Akechi said politely, “why do you think an open investigation to pursue justice for the late Okumura-san would cause the public to lose their faith? Don’t you think that this dedication to its former CEO, even weeks after his horrible death, would inspire them instead?”

Sugimura scoffed. “What’s the point in lingering on such unfortunate incidents? In my opinion, it’s better to press forward and rebuild. And the best way to do that,” and here he smirked at her—seriously, why did they only care about her opinion when she told them to ignore it?— “is to hurry up our marriage so Okumura Foods can instate a permanent CEO, isn’t that right, Haru?”

She said nothing. Akechi clucked his tongue.

“That’s one way of looking at it, certainly, Sugimura-san,” he said. “Personally, I would be impressed by a company that cared so much about justice for its CEO, especially given that this is a family corporation focused on food distribution.” He bowed his head, affecting sadness. “Simply ignoring Okumura-san’s death strikes me as unbelievably cold. As his successor, I’m shocked you don’t agree.”

“W-well, that’s…” he stammered.

“No one is saying we should ignore it,” another board member cut in, “simply that these are matters best left to the police.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement ringed the room. Takakura, as Haru noted, did not join in. In fact, he seemed to have decided to sit back and watch the room like she was doing now.

“Then you should have no problem with my presence,” Akechi countered, unperturbed. “I am associated with the police, after all.”

“That’s not—”

“Does it bother none of you,” he interrupted, tone doleful and eyes downcast, “that Okumura-san was murdered?” He raised his gaze, now sharp. “Does it bother none of you that any of you might be next?”

That got everyone’s attention. Even Sugimura was watching him, though having heard this already, he didn’t mirror the others’s shock.

“What are you talking about?” another board member demanded, slapping the table with both hands. “Why would the Phantom Thieves target us?”

“About that...” Akechi began. He explained to them what he had to Sugimura yesterday: that if the Phantom Thieves hadn’t killed her father, that the culprit could be a corporate assassin sent by a rival company, and therefore any high-ranking member of the company could get targeted.

Haru watched everyone’s faces closely as he did. Most of the board, which was finally paying attention to him and not her, looked thoroughly, genuinely startled by this. Some of them, who were also genuinely startled, looked alarmed. She made notes of names and reactions, scribbling as fast as she could, keeping her eyes up so she wouldn’t miss a thing.

“...and of course, there is one other, impossible-to-ignore possibility,” Akechi said. “That is to say, that this murder wasn’t committed at the request of a rival company, but someone from within Okumura Foods. Possibly even someone in this very room.”

Oh, that caused an uproar. Even Takakura was stunned, though he still didn’t interrupt.

“That’s absurd!!” Sugimura burst out. “Who here would have any reason to want Okumura-san dead?! His brilliant business strategies were making the company filthy rich!!”

“It’s my job to figure that out, sir,” Akechi replied, demeanor placid even as several board members shouted out in support of Sugimura. “It’s not the only possibility, but as long as it’s a possibility, it’s one I can’t ignore.”

“Ignore it anyway!” Sugimura snapped. Several other board members shot him a surprised stare. “There’s absolutely no way anyone in this room is responsible for Okumura-san’s death!”

Akechi smiled blandly. “Oh?”

Haru could have just screamed with ironic laughter. Instead, she kept up her notes.

Paying attention to neither, Sugimura continued, “You had me a little concerned yesterday with your scare story about corporate assassinations, but Okumura-san was a figure of the utmost respect, and so is this board! You have no right to throw around baseless accusations!”

“Well, for one, I haven’t actually accused anyone, merely presented a possibility,” Akechi said mildly. “For another, Miss Okumura has given me that right by hiring me.”

Haru paused in her note-taking to flash her fiancé a sugary smile.

“You’re overstepping your boundaries, boy!!” Sugimura snarled, turning red in the face.

Akechi feigned dejection. “Oh, dear… Sugimura-san, are you all right? You’re taking this awfully personally… Is stress making you lose your temper? You should be more careful of your health.” His eyes, now calculating, flicked up. “It would be terrible if you collapsed in the middle of the street.”

“Don’t be absurd! I’m the picture of health!”

“Oh? Such collapses have been somewhat epidemic lately, though. Even reasonably healthy-seeming individuals simply… shut down. Isn’t that tragic?”

Haru scrutinized the board as the detective spoke. Most of them seemed puzzled; a couple, including Takakura, frowned, as if realizing something was amiss but unsure of what. But of the dozen-plus men who surrounded her and Akechi, three turned white as a ghost at his implications, fear so real and palpable that there was no question they understood what he referenced. Quick as a snakebite, Haru jotted down their names.

“Your concern is entirely unnecessary!!” Sugimura was shouting.

“Now, now,” Takakura said then, finally raising both hands for silence. Everyone looked at him—except for Haru, who shot him a glance and kept up her vigil of the group at large. “This is getting a little out of hand. Let’s all take a moment to breathe and calm down.”

Sugimura shot him a foul look, but adjusted his tie and sat back down, having half-risen. Akechi’s plastic smile continued unabated.

“To tell the truth, I’ve also noticed a pattern of strange deaths among the movers and shakers of the food industry, of which Okumura-san was only the latest,” Takakura continued, folding his hands. “For the sake of my own peace of mind as well as our clients and employees, I agree that an internal integrity search is a good idea.” He nodded to Haru. “Thank you for your transparency on this matter.”

“Of course,” Haru replied, giving him a genteel nod back. “It is of course my sincerest hope that no one on this board had anything to do with it. But as Akechi-kun says, it’s a possibility we cannot afford to ignore. If the press were to find out something so obvious had been overlooked, then the speculation that would cause would trouble the company far more than the investigation itself.”

Takakura nodded. “That’s wise. Well then, please allow me to offer you my support.”

About half the board chimed in offering their support as well. Haru blessed them all with a sweet smile. After her observations and notes, she had a much stronger idea of who was sincere and who was sucking up. “Thank you, Takakura-san, members of the board,” she said. “I look forward to everyone’s review.”

Sugimura scoffed. “What a waste of time. At first you had me thinking your fretting was cute, but you’re going too far, Haru.”

“What an odd sentiment,” Akechi remarked. “As Okumura-san’s successor, shouldn’t you be more concerned than anyone about the possibility of internal intrigue?” He waited for Sugimura to open his mouth, then cut him off: “Or else… let me think… A young, ambitious man eager to take over his fiancée’s father’s multimillion-yen corporation, who repeatedly expresses impatience and frustration with an unenthusiastic bride-to-be… who then takes a hard line against examination of the company’s internal affairs… Doesn’t that sound like a highly suspicious individual?”

The room went dead silent. Haru let herself indulge in a smile at the way Sugimura’s face went from red to mottled purple.

“How. Dare. You??” he seethed. “I’m Haru’s fiancé! Her father practically begged me to marry her! And this is how I’m treated?! I am owed this company!”

“Then surely you’ll share a copy of that arranged marriage contract with everyone? Since that’s the foundation of your claim.”

Haru’s smile evolved into a broad grin as Sugimura popped his mouth open and shut like a goldfish. When he was on one’s own side, Akechi’s despicable smarm really could be a delight.

So naturally Sugimura turned on his own smarm, leaning back in his seat and flipping his bangs. Haru glanced around; several of the board members were sweating. “This is why teen idols are so annoying. Obviously I don’t have such an important document right on me,” he scoffed. “It’s cute when a high school girl doesn’t know anything, but aren’t you embarrassed as a would-be man to parade your ignorance like that, Akechi-kun?”

“Do you think so?” Akechi wondered. “Personally, I’d be much more embarrassed to be so inept of an adult that I need to bully high schoolers to distract from my lies.”

“What lies?! What proof do you have that I’m lying?!” Sugimura demanded, banging a fist on the table. “If you’re going to insist on these outrageous claims, I demand you show proof right now!”

“Why should I show proof?” Akechi replied, eyebrows rising. “That burden, to verify that your engagement to Miss Okumura is legitimate, is on you.”

“Ggkkh…!”

“Settle down, children,” said one of the senior board members, tone as patronizing as his words. Despite his condescending smile, Haru noted the sweat trickling down his face. “There’s no need for all this shouting. Is there really a need to bring out a copy right away? We all know Okumura-san had this agreement with Sugimura-kun, and obviously such a valuable contract would be kept somewhere safe. It might take some time to sort through all of Okumura-san’s things before we find the original copy. Fussing over it for now won’t do anyone any good.”

Several over board members nodded in agreement. Takakura, however, lowered his hands to the table.

“Interesting,” he said. “Because I believe I’m the most familiar with Okumura-san’s contracts and documentations, and I was under the impression his agreement with Sugimura-san was strictly a verbal one.”

The board member who’d spoken, Sugimura, and several others flinched. Akechi caught Haru’s eye and flashed her a smile, and they both went back to watching.

“Come now, Takakura-san, you must have forgotten,” the other man wheedled. “Okumura-san would never leave such an important agreement unwritten—”

“That’s true. Okumura-san was always a stickler for official contracts for major business maneuvers. Which is why I find it strange that I’ve never seen nor heard of this marriage contract before,” Takakura replied.

“J-just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist!” Sugimura protested, eyeballs bulging.

“As acting CEO, I can assure all of you, I’ve become intimately familiar with Okumura Foods’s major contracts. If I haven’t even heard of this marriage contract, frankly, that means it doesn’t exist.”

“H-how dare you—”

As Sugimura blustered, Takakura turned his gaze forward. “Haru. Up until now, I’d been under the impression that you were happy with your engagement to Sugimura-kun. However, this meeting has made it clear I’ve had the wrong idea about a good number of things. May I ask you what it is you think about your would-be marriage?”

Haru’s back was already straight, but her shoulders practically rose as if tied to helium balloons. Aside from her private vent fests with Ren, no one had ever encouraged her to just come out and say what she thought about her detestable fiancée. She could almost cry with joy.

But she restrained herself and instead took an even breath to calm herself. “Sugimura-san is of course a bright man with a bright future ahead of him, thanks to his family. But I don’t feel as though the two of us are compatible as a couple, and think our marriage would end poorly,” she replied, enunciating each syllable like crystal. “In short, I have no desire to marry him whatsoever.”

Takakura nodded once, then looked around the room. “That’s that, then.”

Sugimura sputtered, “B-but Okumura-san promised me--”

“Nothing that was officiated or validated,” Takakura interrupted. “I don’t doubt that he had his own wishes in the matter, but the truth is that there is no contract, and with Okumura-san’s passing, any verbal agreement you had with him is null and void. Only Haru’s wishes in this regard matter anymore, and she has made those wishes unmistakably clear. So, my deepest apologies, Sugimura-kun, but you have no place here, nor are you owed any part of the company.”

Haru had to physically restrain herself from vibrating with glee. Sugimura made no such attempts to hide his rage. A moment later, he snatched up his coat and stormed out of the meeting room.

“This isn’t over!! You’ll regret making a fool out of me!!” he blustered as he went.

“Hmm. I wonder,” Takakura said once he was gone. “Incidentally, Tanaka-san, you seemed quite certain that this contract of his really existed. Why is that?”

The board member from before turned pale. “W-why, naturally because I thought Okumura-san wouldn’t marry off his only child based on word alone! He was keen for years on getting an heir to succeed him, don’t you remember?”

Takakura nodded. “I see. I do remember that.” He looked back to Haru and Akechi. “Thank you both again. It seems that Okumura Foods is even more need of an integrity search than I’d realized.”

About a third of the board members flinched, shifted, or otherwise looked uneasy. Haru finished up her notes, then made a show of snapping her notepad shut. “Oh, no, thank you, Takakura-san,” she replied, keeping her tone and expression pleasant. “It’s my sincerest hope that we can cooperate to make this company better than ever.”

He smiled and nodded to her, then looked around the room. “In that case, please continue to work with Akechi-kun to solve your father’s murder, for everyone’s sakes. I’ll handle internal affairs on my end and keep you updated on any developments, Haru.”

She stood up and bowed with grace. “Thank you very much.”

From there, the meeting was functionally adjourned. What an incredible feeling it was! Never before had Haru felt so accomplished, so respected at the end of one of these hell-gatherings. It was thanks to Akechi, too. She wasn’t about to forgive him for her father, but she might be willing to be cordial, even friendly after this. Ren was right; Akechi was trying to help now. She ought to acknowledge that.

After a brief discussion with Takakura, in which he encouraged her to pursue what (and whom, a topic that left her blushing) made her happy, she left with Akechi for the outside, so energized she opted to take the stairs. At the bottom, when he opened the door to the outside for her, she didn’t even find it annoying. It was a bit of a relief, honestly. She didn’t like being angry or holding grudges. If Akechi kept this up, maybe they could get along after all. As such, she favored him with a smile.

“Thank you, Akechi-kun. For everything, I mean. You really did help me a lot today.”

He smiled back. “I’m glad to hear it, Haru-san.”

But when they approached her limo, he paused. She thought he might open the door for her again, but he just stood there, gazing off into the distance, his profile pensive.

“Haru-san. About what you were saying about Amamiya the other day...”

She tensed as she came to a stop behind him. With the meeting just now, she’d completely forgotten about it. The instant he turned and met her eyes, she knew that was to her detriment.

“I won’t lose to you, either,” he stated, tone and stance and gaze all unyielding.

Haru clamped her jaw shut. The two of them stared each other down for a moment; then Akechi moved to the other side of the limo and let himself in. Stiffly, Haru climbed in on her side, and the chauffeur drove them to Yongen-Jaya in silence.

Ren had just finished doodling the last of the Big Four’s Palace foyers, filling in some details that Morgana pointed out that he’d missed or forgotten, when Haru and Goro arrived. That they were first of everyone was a pleasant surprise, and he looked up at them with a smile. Both of them looked a little stiff, and both of them relaxed as they returned that smile and sat on either side of him in front of the end table he’d set up for the meeting.

“Hmmm,” Goro murmured, peeking over his shoulder. “Not bad.”

“It’s not anywhere near Yusuke’s level, but it’ll do,” Morgana remarked from Ren’s lap. “How’d it go at the board meeting?”

“Actually quite well,” he said, looking over at Haru.

Haru nodded. “Yes. For once, I felt like the board was trying to keep up with me, rather than the other way around.”

“Good to hear,” Ren said. “What changed?”

Her mouth pulled diagonally to one side. “Akechi-kun gave me a few tips for how to handle the room,” she said, reluctance palpable in her tone. “The rest, he handled on my behalf.”

“Hmm…” He looked over at Goro to gauge his reaction. “Sounds like you two’re developing some good teamwork.”

Goro smiled brilliantly, the one he smiled when he thought he had the upper hand. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m only doing my fair share, since Haru-san has been a great help to me so far, too.”

Ren looked back at Haru. “Oh?”

Expression stormy, she said nothing. Goro meanwhile continued in that smugly pleasant tone of his, “Oh, yes. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have realized at all that something important was within my grasp. I’m truly grateful.”

Ren considered his words and the way Haru grit her teeth; then he reached over and flicked Goro on the forehead.

“Ow!” He rubbed his bangs, bewildered. “What was that for?”

“You’re doing that thing where it sounds like you’re being nice, but you’re actually being a giant asshole, aren’t you?” Ren held up a finger at him. “Don’t do that.”

“I...” Goro stared at him for a second, then at Haru; then he lowered his gaze, abashed. “...I-I’m sorry.”

“Am I the one you need to apologize to?”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry, Haru-san.”

“That’s Miss Okumura to you,” she said loftily.

Ren turned to her, resting his chin on one hand. “Haru. Don’t rub it in.”

She looked stung by that. Ren straightened and looked back and forth between her and Goro.

“You two don’t need to be best friends or anything,” he said. “But you do need to be able to treat each other with civility and respect. If there’s a problem interfering with your abilities to do that, tell me about it. We’ll resolve it here and now.”

They met each other’s eyes across Ren’s face, then looked away. Huh. That felt unusual.

“There’s no problem,” Goro said. “Passive-aggression is just a bad habit of mine. I truly am sorry. I’ll do better at reining that in.”

“I’m just feeling tense, that’s all,” Haru murmured. “I’m sorry, too. I have been lashing out more than I should. I’ll also do my best to keep that in check.”

Ren looked back and forth between the two. Huh. That was… a lot easier than he’d thought it would be. “Good,” he decided. “Glad to hear it. But if there gets to be a problem on either end, make sure you let me know, all right?”

They each murmured their assent. Morgana shot Ren a knowing look, and he got his point, but things seemed fairly promising so far.

The others arrived not long after: first Makoto, then Ryuji and Ann, then Yusuke, then finally Futaba. After some chatting and munching on the snacks he’d laid out for everyone, the group settled in, and he set out his doodles. Morgana hopped up onto the table and tapped his paw on them.

“So yesterday morning, Ren and I investigated the entrances to the four Palaces we need to hit,” he said. “They all look tough, but not any tougher than, say, Shido’s Palace. With the strength we’ve all built up until now, we should be able to take each Palace on simultaneously with teams of two, like we discussed the possibility of in the meeting the other day.”

“I’ve given a lot of thought to the breakdown of the four teams,” Ren said, hands folded, elbows on the table. “Since we won’t be able to communicate once we’ve split up, it’s crucial that each team be able to function on its own. Therefore, each team will have a ‘leader,’ who’ll be responsible for making the calls during the heist, and a ‘partner,’ who’ll back them up.”

Ryuji shot a hand up. “Ooh! Ooh! Me! I’ll be a leader!”

“No you won’t.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I’ve already picked who the leaders will be, and these choices are non-negotiable. I can explain the logic behind the decisions if anyone wants to know, but I won’t change my mind.”

“Be aware that Ren and I put a lot of discussion into this, so they haven’t been chosen on a whim,” Morgana added. “If you’re not satisfied, just keep that in mind.”

“Who partners with whom is negotiable,” Ren continued, “as long as the resulting team is balanced. In other words, the two people in a given team need to be able to easily handle physical offense, magical offense, support, and healing with or without items. Morgana and I also put in a lot of discussion on who goes with whom, but there were a few different reasonable match-ups. So if you’re a partner and you don’t like your leader, you can ask to get switched to someone else within reason.”

Makoto pursed her lips. “Hmm.”

Goro’s frown also gave the impression like he’d clued in on where Ren was going with this too. Ren thus wasn’t surprised when he tapped his shoulder.

“Excuse me,” Goro said. “I hate to interrupt now of all times, but before you go on, there’s something I need to say.”

Ren nodded him on.

Despite the permission, he hesitated as he looked around at everyone, whose attention was now on him. He seemed flustered. Very cute. “Well, er… how do I put this… I realize this is highly overdue, but, uh…” He coughed into one fist and scooted back. Hands on his knees, he then bowed so low his forehead nearly touched the table. “…I wronged all of you deeply. I won’t ask for anyone’s forgiveness, as I know many of the things I’ve done are beyond forgiving, but please allow me to offer my sincerest apologies for my disgraceful behavior up until today, especially over the last few days.”

“W-woah, for real?” Ryuji uttered, gaping.

He wasn’t the only one. Everyone, even Ren, was visibly stunned by the sudden display of contrition. It wasn’t that Ren thought he was acting—quite the opposite. It was just…

“No kidding… I never thought I’d see the day Akechi would humble himself,” Makoto breathed, summing up at least Ren’s feelings on the matter.

“I thought I would need to go at least this far if any of you would believe me,” Goro murmured, not rising. “I’m sure many of you still don’t trust me, especially after, ah… I threatened you all for seizing Shido’s Treasure without me. But I’ve had time since then to cool off, and… looking back, I’m ashamed of how I behaved after you all saved my life twice over.”

“C-c’mon, Akechi-kun, you can lift your head already,” Ann stammered, hands palm-out. “It’s embarrassing just watching you.”

He did sit back up, but he kept his gaze down, bangs casting long shadows over his eyes. “Um… that’s basically it. I apologize again for the interruption, and, er… in general.”

“Well… Your apology is appreciated,” Yusuke said, regarding him thoughtfully. “To be honest, I’d thought you would let the matter get swept under the rug.”

“That’s d-definitely the ‘you’ thing to do,” Futaba muttered.

Goro laughed weakly, but didn’t protest.

Morgana meanwhile hummed thoughtfully and looked up at Ren. Ren, who by then had let a corner of his mouth lift, caught his glance and nodded back at him.

“Apology accepted,” he said. “Though I can only speak for myself.”

Goro shot him a glance, relief reflecting off his eyes and faintest of smiles.

“Still don’t forgive you,” Futaba said flatly.

Haru’s mouth likewise remained a thin line. “Mm. Agreed.”

Goro averted his eyes. “...Yes, I understand. I didn’t think either of you would.”

“Well, it’s good you accept that,” Makoto remarked. “For my part, I don’t have nearly as heavy a grievance as they do, so… I’ll accept your apology, too.”

Yusuke nodded. “After Futaba and Haru, Ren is the one with the most right to hold a grudge. If he isn’t going to, I see no reason to do otherwise.”

“I admit, I side more towards Haru and Futaba,” Morgana said. “That being said, I’m willing to accept the spirit behind it… if, of course, you keep up the penitent attitude.”

“Hey, what’s the point in making him bow and scrape forever? He’s already helpin’ us out,” Ryuji pointed out, folding his arms behind his head. “Thanks for the apology, Akechi. It took you freakin’ long enough, but I get needin’ to cool your head first before you can say what you gotta say.”

“Mmm… I’m kinda divided,” Ann admitted, expression clouded. “Ryuji’s got a point, but I don’t think it’s right to forget about Futaba’s mom and Haru’s dad that easily, either...”

“That’s fine,” Goro said. “As I said before, I don’t expect anyone’s forgiveness. I understand if you can’t accept my apology, either. I just felt that if I’m going to be part of the team, it shouldn’t be left unsaid.”

“Well… okay,” she conceded, nodding. “I’m definitely glad you did that much, for what it’s worth.”

His faint smile returned. “Thank you. And thank you, everyone. I’ll do my best to not let you down going forward.” He cleared his throat. “Now, ah, if you would please continue, Amamiya?”

Ren nodded, giving him a slight smile back. “About the team leaders, then—I’ll lead the first. Morgana will lead the second. Makoto will lead the third. And the fourth...” He nodded to Goro. “Akechi. I want you to do it.”

A minor uproar rose among Ryuji, Ann, and Futaba, who all chorused, “Eeehhh?!” while Yusuke and Haru gawked, taken aback.

Makoto, however, was unfazed. “Hmm. I thought so.”

“Wha—seriously?!” Ann uttered, staring at him and her both.

“He wouldn’t need to stress the part about partners not being fixed to a given leader otherwise,” Makoto pointed out.

Goro nodded. “I’m the only one anyone might not want to work with, right? I’d actually planned on waiting until the end of the meeting for that apology, but when I heard that, I thought I’d better do it immediately to help reduce problems.”

“...And Makoto and Akechi demonstrate why I picked them,” Ren said, pleased. He hadn’t coordinated that with either of them, but they took it as smoothly as Morgana, who’d already known. “Any questions?”

“Oh… Yeah, that makes sense,” Ryuji said, one eye shut. “Yeah, okay, I get it.”

“Hmm. This might go more smoothly than anticipated,” Yusuke commented with a smile.

Futaba grumbled wordlessly as she oozed halfway under the table. But she didn’t protest, so Ren took that as a win.

“Obviously, everyone else is a partner,” Ren continued. “I’ll share my tentative assignments, and if anyone’s not satisfied, we can discuss my logic and possible other arrangements.” The other nodded him on. “Ryuji, you’re with me. Yusuke, you’re with Morgana. Ann, you’re with Makoto.”

“Oh no,” Haru uttered.

Ren laughed a faint, rueful laugh. “Sorry. But you and Akechi are already working together in the real world, and that part of the plan will have you both busy. It’ll be easier for both of you to coordinate Palace dives if you stay partnered.”

Goro cleared his throat. “I’m all right with it if Haru-san doesn’t mind,” he offered tentatively.

Haru lanced him with a glare of pure dislike.

“…but if you hate the idea that much,” Ren continued, “you can switch with Yusuke to partner with Morgana instead, if that works for Yusuke.”

“I don’t mind,” he said.

Haru dropped her gaze and bit her lip. “...No, it’s fine,” she said, reluctance palpable. “What you say about coordination is true. It won’t look suspicious to those in the know if Akechi-kun and I are together even in strange places, either. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ren pressed. “The partner assignments are ultimately suggestions. I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

Her gaze gentled, matching her soft smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. God, she was beautiful. “Thank you. But it really is all right.” She sighed, and her breath took her smile with it. “It’s just two weeks. I can endure it for that long.”

Ren could practically hear Goro ellipse behind him. He felt a bit bad for kicking him while he was down, but he pretended not to notice and nodded, then looked at Futaba. “Futaba. You’ll be rotating teams as we go so you can get a feel for all of them, just in case. But for the day of the heist, I want you to support Akechi and Haru.”

“Eeeeehhhhhh?” she groaned. “Why him?”

“Because I trust Akechi,” he replied, “but that’s a decision I actively made that flies in face of our actual experience with him, so I want an extra pair of eyes on him. Just in case.”

Futaba flew upright so fast she might’ve been spring-loaded. “Oh, I get it. I’m Haru-chan’s back-up, for when your stupid decision to trust stupid Aketchy blows up in everyone’s faces, again.”

Technically neither he nor any of them had ever trusted Goro before now, but he nodded regardless. “Exactly.”

That got her to grin and snicker. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it, then.”

By then, Goro’s ellipses were practically deafening. Ren looked over at him to see a distinct downward slant to his handsome lips. He quirked a half-smile in return.

“It’s only a stupid decision if I turn out to be wrong. So make sure you prove me right.” His smile faded. “I’m counting on you to protect them.”

For a moment, Goro said nothing, though the edges of his frown eased back. Then he nodded once. “Understood. I’ll do that.”

Ren nodded back, pleased. From there, he and Morgana led the group into a discussion of the details of the Palaces themselves. This discussion was punctuated by Futaba opening up a bag of wasabi peas and throwing them, one by one, at Goro’s head, punctuated each time with her saying, “Whap.” Reactions ranged from amused (nearly everyone, including himself) to exasperated (mostly Makoto, and even then she was smothering a smile).Goro himself tolerated this mostly with grace, if punctuated by the occasional longest-suffering of sighs. The first time he did was hilarious, sinceat that point he’d been enduring Futaba’s Futabaness for no longer than precisely ten seconds. Eventually, though… well. One thing at a time.

The TV station president’s Palace was located at the station HQ and took the distorted form of a Roman coliseum. Entering had been easy; it was open to all spectators, and was filled with cognitions. (“Whap.”) Once inside, though, they’d had to evade capture by the many guards, who grabbed anyone who made a scene and threw them into the arena to fight—and ultimately get killed by—Shadows. They’d spotted a cognitive double of Shido in the Emperor’s seat (“Whap.” Sigh.), while the station president’s Shadow appeared as a local magistrate running the coliseum and currying favor with “Emperor” Shido. The layout was fairly simple with few signs of traps, but the Shadows they’d observed in the arena were strong, easily the strongest of the four Palaces (“Whap.” Assorted laughter.), and after a certain point they needed authorization to proceed further, so they had to turn back.

The IT company president’s Palace was his corporate building (“Whap.”), which took the distortion of a ninja mansion. This one they hadn’t been able to plunge into very far; they’d first needed to find a meandering path around the side, and the walls and roof had both been trapped. (“Whap.” Sigh. Some chuckling.) There’d been ninjas everywhere, and while they were weak individually, it made progressing undetected extremely difficult. They hadn’t been able to spot the company president’s Shadow, but they’d overheard a mention of “Shogun” Shido having “fallen ill.” The entire Palace had had an air of tension to it (“Whap.” A certain tension in Goro’s neck), unlike the coliseum, where things seemed to be mostly business as usual.

The former noble’s Palace was at his private mansion in the heart of Azabu, one of Japan’s wealthiest precincts, and took the form of Hollywood, red carpet, spotlights, glitz, glamour, and all. Security had been nearly as rough as at the ninja mansion, but it was easier to sneak in the side. It’d been rife with cognitions of nubile, half-naked twenty-something women. (“WHAP.” Three peas at once. Goro went ugh as the others laughed. Ren glanced at him and the clench in his jaw, and thought hard.) While it hadn’t had the traps of the ninja mansion, it was rife with “Hollywood magic” illusions, so it’d been difficult to navigate; he and Morgana had gotten lost more than once. That’d served them well, though, because they’d found the ex-noble’s Shadow (“Whap.”), who was a sparkly superstar, and his cognition of Shido, who was a big-name director, in one of the dressing rooms. The Shadow had been wheedling the cognitive Shido for bigger and better roles, while “Director” Shido had moped about losing his blockbuster-making inspiration. (“Whap.”) After watching the Shadow damn near have a meltdown over what he’d do if he couldn’t get another starring role, Ren and Morgana had discreetly let themselves out. (“Wha—”)

(Ren snatchedFutaba’s latest hurled pea out of midair at this point, then crunched on it as he made direct eye contact with her. She stared back, then held both hands up in surrender. After that, all further wasabi peas went nowhere but her own mouth. For his help,Goro looked at Ren with an unreadable expression… but his neck and jaw relaxed.)

The last one, for the politician Ooe, had been in the Diet Building like Shido’s had been. However, his Palace took the form of a cathedral, crowned by a massive clocktower that housed a bell to match. Ren and Morgana had had to climb up the carved and decorated walls to find a way inside, but beyond that, it had seemed simple at first. They’d come across a sermon from Shadow Ooe, who took the form of a pope, thundering a fire-and-brimstone sermon about the sins of mankind, how humans were inherently evil and needed a firm and commanding hand to guide them, how God would visit divine punishment on those who dared to step out of line, etc etc etc. It made Ren want to puke. This feeling only intensified when Shadow Ooe had turned the topic to his cognition of Shido, who took the form of God. Literally, just, fucking God. As “God,” Shido was the one who brought down retribution on the wicked, and there was some other bullshit about how a lack of faith was diminishing him and that if people didn’t want to all be judged as sinners they’d better fall in line, which was pretty funny considering according to Goro he’d straight-up refused to work for his real-world self.

Goro offered a lot of useful information, too. The coliseum had underground dungeons that were accessible in the back parts, and they connected to aqueducts that lead all over the place; the ninja mansion’s traps changed constantly, but in a pattern that he wrote down next to his doodle of it, along with how to disarm them; the Hollywood illusions were all movie-themed, and as long as you played along with and then took control of the ‘role’ it forced you into, it was easy to navigate through; the bell in the cathedral clocktower rang on the regular, and if you heard its chime, it would paralyze you with fear, so you when you heard the clock gears start to grind, you had to immediately plug up your ears or dive into a safe room; and so on and so forth. He also explained that the IT president’s Shadow took the form of the boss ninja who’d pledged his blade to “Shogun” Shido. By the end, everyone had a smooth, clear idea of the challenges they’d face and how to bypass most of them.

From there, they discussed who to send where. Though Futaba would cycle through the groups so she’d be familiar with all the Palaces, they agreed that it was best to have the individual teams focus on one each. Ren and Ryuji would take the coliseum; Morgana and Yusuke, the ninja mansion; Makoto and Ann, Hollywood; and Goro and Haru, the cathedral. Futaba said she’d start with the ninja mansion since it sounded like that was the kind of Palace where a thief would need an extra edge. Ren agreed.

With that, the meeting was adjourned—or so it seemed. Goro had one more thing to bring up.

“If there are members of the conspiracy left on the Okumura Foods board,” he said, “does anyone object to using Mementos to find them out?”

Haru blinked rapidly. “Using Mementos?”

Makoto frowned. “What do you mean by ‘find them out’?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Goro replied. “If you input the names of a list of suspects into the Navi app, eventually one of them will get you a hit. Then you just have to go in and question the Shadow and apply the information you get to the real world. No one needs to die, I assure you.”

Ren and the others looked around at each other. It sounded reasonable enough, but…

“Now that you mention it, I’ve been wondering something for a while,” Morgana said. “Akechi, how did you learn about Mementos? I get the impression you knew about it even before you forced yourself onto the team.”

“I got a tip from someone knowledgeable about the Metaverse. Does anyone object or not?”

“It feels unethical,” Makoto said slowly. “Like we’re using our powers for our personal gain.”

Goro laughed for some reason.

“Not that I’m siding with Aketchy or anything,” Futaba said, “but I don’t see what’s so unethical about it. We need info to take the conspiracy apart. Questioning Shadows doesn’t feel much different from hacking into a private server, where I stand.”

“The difference is that one of us—me—would personally benefit from it,” Haru murmured. “Makoto is right. The idea of it makes me uneasy...”

Yusuke bowed his head. “Mm. I understand how you feel, but… as I understand it, you all found out about Madarame by getting information from a Shadow in Mementos, correct? And the actions you took thereafter directly benefited me as well as the group.”

“Well, yeah,” Ann said, “but that was after the fact! Nobody knew you’d turn out to be a Persona-User and join the team! At the time, we weren’t thinking of anything but saving someone in trouble and punishing a rotten adult! Right, Ryuji?”

Ryuji scratched his head. “If I’m bein’ totally honest, at the time, I was mostly thinking about how we could score even more popularity by goin’ after a big target—ow!”

Ann withdrew her smacking hand. “You only had to say ‘yes’!”

“It seems like you’re all divided on the matter,” Goro observed before they could descend into bickering. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make any waves. If it helps, I don’t see this as necessarily benefiting Haru-san, but rather, a way of decreasing the conspiracy’s influence. If, for example, the current acting president is a member, then it’s inevitable that if Okumura Foods recovers as a company, they’ll start funneling funds towards Shido again. And quite frankly, we’re nine teenagers against a Tokyo-wide organization composed of an array of rich and influential men. The Metaverse and our Personas are the only weapons we have that gives us a real edge against them. Wouldn’t it therefore be best to use every related resource we have at our disposal to take them down?”

Morgana’s tail curled. “Hmm… When you put it like that, it sounds reasonable, but…”

“I think we ought to be cautious of any course of action that Akechi-kun thinks is reasonable,” Haru said flatly.

There was a general noise of agreement, even from Futaba. Ren remained silent. Goro must have noticed that, because he sighed and looked his way.

“What do you think, leader?” he said.

Ren held his chin as he met Goro’s gaze. “Is that how you got your start?”

“I’m sorry?”

“As a detective. Going into the Metaverse and interrogating Shadows.”

“Ahh, ahaha. You’re as insightful as ever. Yes, it was.”

Ryuji’s face screwed up. “I thought you got your start from makin’ people go psycho and ‘solving’ the murders that doin’ that made happen?”

“That didn’t come until later,” Goro said, tone a little testy. “Granted, I suppose it makes no difference in the end, but still. Did you really think I immediately resorted to murder?”

“I mean… yeah?” Ryuji said, to more general sounds of agreement.

He peered around the room. “…If you all thought I was that bloodthirsty, why did you even let me come back?”

No one had an answer for that. Ren watched Goro for a moment; then he turned his attention to the group at large.

“I agree with Futaba,” he said. “We need information. Questioning Shadows doesn’t strike me as inherently more unethical than hacking servers, and we’ve never been bothered by her doing that when it was convenient for us. As long as we take care in how we use that information, I think it’s fine.” He looked over at Makoto and Haru. “That said, I also think this should be unanimous, like the rest of our decisions. So if you two really insist against it, we won’t do it.”

Makoto looked at Haru. Haru pursed her lips, looking troubled.

“I don’t know...” she murmured. “I don’t think I’m capable of making an objective decision about this.” She looked up. “To be completely honest, I kind of want to do it. I want to know who I can trust. But the fact that it was Akechi-kun’s suggestion makes me reflexively want to reject it. So I’ll abstain instead. If everyone else agrees it’s all right… I’ll go along with it.”

“I stand by my earlier assertion,” Yusuke said. “I agree that we should hold ourselves to a certain standard so as not to fall into corruption, but no matter how I look at it, this isn’t about personal gain; it’s about protecting one of our own. We should always make that a priority.”

Ann perked. “Yeah… yeah! Yusuke’s right! If we don’t steal anyone’s heart, then we’re just doing what we can to keep Haru safe! I’m all for that!”

Ryuji grinned. “Same here!”

“Likewise,” Morgana said, nodding.

“Hmm… If we do this, who’s going to do the interrogating?” Makoto said. “We don’t have much manpower to spare.”

“Haru, Akechi, and me,” Ren said. “Haru has a right to hear that information herself, and Akechi has experience with this. I’ll go to make sure he stays in line and doesn’t kill anyone.”

Goro’s head sank. “Again, I don’t automatically resort to murder as a first option...”

“No stealing, either,” he continued, ignoring him. “It’ll be purely for information.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “All right. If those are the terms, I’ll agree to it.”

With that, it was unanimous. After some more discussion, the team agreed to all get together at Mementos the next day after school. Ren, Haru, and Goro would focus on questioning the Shadows of those among the Okumura Food board who got back hits, while the others would work on clearing requests from the Phan-site, which had built up during the time Ren had been “dead.”

Friendship, Akechi began to conclude, was exhausting. At the very least, he sort of wished he hadn’t agreed to let Futaba ‘mess with him’ however she wanted. Letting her throw wasabi peas at his head was irritating enough without everyone else laughing at his expense.

Still, it would be worth it in the end, he told himself as the others gathered their things to leave. Ren had even come to his rescue, as it were. It ruffled Akechi a little to have to be ‘rescued,’ but… he did like that Ren cared enough to do something about it.

Before he descended the stairs to Leblanc proper, he indulged himself one last lingering look at their leader, who was cleaning up everyone’s empty snack bags. He considered offering to help him out, but Haru beat him to it by going ahead and doing it. Goro tensed as Ren smiled at her, then left Leblanc with his back straight. Let this one go. He’d have another chance.

Most of the others dispersed once outside. Goro made sure to exchange goodbyes with the rest of them, but one he didn’t need to; Makoto walked with him to the train station. That was only mildly awkward. He glanced at her on occasion, and so caught her doing the same back. When they swiped their transit passes and settled in to wait for the next train, they stood an almost personable distance apart.

They might have spent the entire wait in silence if Akechi hadn’t cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “So,” he murmured, keeping his eyes forward, “since we’re here, there’s something I wanted to ask you...”

“Yes?”

He glanced her way, meeting her wondering eyes. “Were you really jealous of me?”

She grimaced. “I should have figured you’d ask something like that.” She pushed her hair back and faced forward. “…Yes, it is. Like I said, my sister respects you and spent so much more time with you… It’s hard not to compare the two of us, especially since we’re the same age.”

Akechi breathed a faint laugh. “You honestly think your sister respects me?”

“Huh?”

“Like most of our work colleagues, Sae-san can’t stand me. She only tolerates me because she has to.”

Makoto gawked at him. “What? That can’t be true.”

“Can’t it? Have you ever heard her say anything positive about me?”

“Um…”

“In truth, she resents me,” Akechi continued, turning his gaze forward. “She sees me as ballast weighing down her career—a child she was forced into babysitting because she’s a woman.”

“How do you know that?”

“You know she has a Shadow, right?”

Makoto fell silent.

“She’s not exactly wrong, either.” His grip on his briefcase tightened. “It’s absolutely true I was shoved onto her. None of the male prosecutors wanted to deal with me, so they had me work with Sae-san because they saw her as ‘more naturally inclined’ to dealing with minors.”

Her eyes narrowed. “...I take it they had Shadows, too.”

He shrugged. “It’s amazing how many people do. So you see, you have nothing to be jealous of. Your sister almost certainly likes you better than she does me.”

She bowed her head. After another moment of silence, he looked over at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “I thought you’d be happy to hear it.”

“How could I be happy about that…?”

A train rushed into the station, then slowed to a halt. It wasn’t Akechi’s. Makoto didn’t move either. The crowds flowed around them like a stream around a pair of mossy rocks. A moment later, the air settled, leaving the two of them alone in the station.

“Sis sees me the same way too, actually,” she murmured.

“Hm?”

“As ballast. As a child she has to babysit.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because one night at dinner, around half a year ago, she snapped and said basically that.”

Akechi almost said something; decided not to at the last second.

She looked up at him. “…But I don’t think that’s the only way she feels about me.”

He met her gaze with a slight frown.

“It’s ironic,” Makoto continued, “but ever since she spoke to Ren last month, she’s gotten more relaxed, and we’ve gotten closer. Maybe she does feel that way when she’s stressed and frustrated, but people can often have complicated feelings for those in their lives. So… even if she does resent the way you came into her life, I still think she respects you as a detective.”

Akechi averted his eyes. Considering she had to know by now that his solved cases had been a sham from the start, he wasn’t so sure about that.

After a moment, Makoto pushed her hair back and cleared her throat. “Hey… if you’re not doing anything after this, would you like to join me for a study session at my place? We both have entrance exams to worry about, after all.”

He blinked at her rapidly. Though her voice had been soft, her gaze was unswerving. He smiled slightly, relaxing. He’d planned just to get on her good side and nothing more, but this…

“All right. Thank you, let’s do that,” he said, nodding.

She smiled back. By all appearances, it was sincere, like she was pleased to have the opportunity to spend time with him.

…this wasn’t so bad.

The next train came soon after. Makoto and Akechi boarded. Half an hour later, they walked into her apartment, the city lights already twinkling through the windows. As usual, the place was fastidiously clean, to the point it almost seemed unlived-in. Most of Akechi’s apartment was little different, admittedly. They sat together at the dining table, brought out their textbooks, notebooks, and study guides, and got to work. Studying together like this wasn’t unpleasant; Makoto understood the material well, and reviewing it together gave them both better insight into it. She was as forthright as when he’d first met and questioned her last June. A key difference jarred now from then, though, and that was—

“You’ve gotten much more assertive,” Akechi observed once they reached a break point.

She blinked up at him as she set out a pair of steaming cups of tea for them. “Hmm?”

“You used to be a meek goody-two-shoes who did whatever she was told. Now you have steel in your spine,” he clarified. “This isn’t a new observation, mind you. It just struck me all over again.”

She smiled as she sat down. “Thanks for noticing.”

He chuckled. “You’re cheekier, too.”

“Well, I am a rebel with a cause now,” Makoto said straight-faced.

His chuckle turned into an outright laugh. “It’s a good look for you.” He took a sip of green tea. It was rather soothing. “…And it’s all because of Amamiya, huh.”

She nodded once, taking a drink of her own. “If I hadn’t met him and the others, I wouldn’t have snapped and started standing up for myself.”

“‘Snapped,’ huh? Come to think, I do recall hearing about your motorcycle rampage in Kaneshiro’s bank.” He smiled. “You had the Shadows in quite an uproar.”

Her lips thinned as she set down her cup. “Oh, right… You were skulking around, too. As the ‘man in the black mask.’” She shook her head. “It’s… still strange, to think that you had these powers for far longer than I have.”

“…It’s strange for me too, but in a different way,” Akechi admitted.

He took a longer drink, mulling on his own words. He’d held Makoto in contempt for being a ‘good girl,’ but… after encountering Shido’s cognitive version of himself, he’d come to realize it was because Makoto back then had reminded him of himself. A good little child who jumped to obey the demands of those who looked down on them, all out of a meager hope of praise and approval…He saw that part of himself in her, and he couldn’t stand it. Seeing how much stronger she was now after having met Ren?

It made him hate his weaknesses that much more.

“How so?” Makoto prompted then.

But he only laughed and drained his cup. “Isn’t it obvious? If things had turned out a little differently, maybe you would’ve ended up my partner in crime.”

She scowled. “You mean, done mental shutdowns with you? Sorry, but I would never do that.”

“True.” He peered down at the dregs at the bottom of his cup and wondered what fortune it told. “You live up to your name too well to be anything less than fully sincere. Unlike me, whose detective career has been dubious at best.”

Her eyes widened.

He set his cup down and forced a smile. “But that’s a rather depressing topic, isn’t it? We ought to get back to our studies before we get too distracted.”

“Hmm.” But Makoto didn’t argue with him, and they resumed their review of entrance exam materials.

Before they could get much further, though, the apartment’s front door opened and Sae walked in. She took off her shoes in the foyer and beelined to her room without paying either of them any attention.

At least, not until Makoto said, “Sis? What’re you doing back so early?”

Sae paused long enough to glance at them. “Hmm?” When she saw him, she did a double-take, blinking wide. “Akechi-kun? ...Now there’s a unexpected sight.” She looked over at Makoto. “There’s something I needed to pick up, is all. I’ll be heading right out again.” Then she looked back at him. “So you two are studying together?”

“For tonight, at least,” he said. “Entrance exams and all.”

She shook her head, a pair of fingers on her forehead. “It is that season, isn’t it. What a shame… I could have used your help down at the prosecutor’s office.”

“Oh?” Makoto said, shooting Akechi a look. “You need him that much, sis?”

“At the very least, it would make things easier. But I’m not going to steal him from you, Makoto,” Sae said dryly. “Excuse me.”

She left for her room. Makoto gave Akechi a knowing smile. Akechi, however, was not impressed.

When Sae reappeared a moment later, he called to her, “By the way, Sae-san, I needed to discuss an issue with my savings account with you...”

“Can it wait until tomorrow? The taxi’s waiting,” she said, pulling on her shoes.

“Mmm, normally I would say yes,” Akechi said, shooting Makoto a furtive look, “but it’s something I can’t handle without you, my legal custodian...”

“Your what?!” Makoto uttered, jaw dropping. “I never heard about this before!”

“Oh, I never told you? I suppose it wasn’t relevant,” Sae said, adjusting her coat. “Since Akechi-kun’s a minor and has no parents, when he was accepted onto the force as an outside liaison detective, someone had to be appointed his legal guardian for the paperwork.” Her lips pursed. “And that was me.”

“I… I had no idea…”

“Well, I couldn’t very well have a boy living here with you, could I?” She looked at him. “In any case, I can spare a couple of minutes if need be. Can you give me the quick version?”

But he held out a hand. “Thank you anyway, Sae-san, but it’s a little too complicated to condense that far. I’ll make do until tomorrow after all.”

She nodded. “Tomorrow, then.” And then Sae was out the door.

Akechi watched her go. Then he fixed Makoto with a knowing look of his own.

She stared back at him, still visibly stunned. “Sis… is your guardian? But I thought…”

He shrugged. “It’s a bit complicated. In any case, as you see, it’s not like she does it out of any sense of affection. It’s more like she’s my legal representative until I come of age. Our relationship is purely professional. So, like I told you before, you really have nothing to be jealous of—”

She shot to her feet, cutting him off, and stormed past the foyer and out of apartment. Akechi followed her in confusion, careful to prop open the door on the way so they didn’t end up locked out. He caught up with her as the elevator doors opened for Sae. Hearing the two, she turned towards them, blinking in confusion.

“Sis!!” Makoto demanded, stopping a few feet away. “Did you really leave Akechi-kun to fend for himself, even though he was a minor and you were his guardian?!”

Oh god. “That isn’t why I told you that,” he protested, embarrassment heating his tone. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Akechi-kun didn’t mind,” Sae added, sounding taken aback. “He said he was fine on his own.”

“Bullshit!! Did you really think an orphaned kid would actually be fine living alone?!”

“Please go on ahead, Sae-san,” Akechi said hastily, attempting to pull Makoto back by the shoulder. “I’ll clear this up with her.”

“Or was it me?!” Makoto insisted, swatting him away without looking at him. “Did you think I was such a burden that you couldn’t let another kid my age move in?!”

To Akechi’s surprise, that actually seemed to strike home, from the way Sae flinched. “It’s true I was having trouble balancing taking care of you with my career,” she admits reluctantly. “There also just wasn’t space for Akechi-kun. If he’d been a girl, maybe the two of you could have shared a room, but he wasn’t, so it was out of the question. I didn’t want you getting distracted from your studies by boys.”

“Well, joke’s on you, because I’m a lesbian!!”

Dead silence. Makoto’s face slowly filled up bright scarlet. Sae stared, apparently too stunned for words.

But Akechi, who had figured this out a long time ago, coughed discreetly into one fist. “I don’t know that it makes a difference now,” he offered, “but while I do find some girls attractive, I largely prefer boys.” He flicked a hand towards Makoto, side-eyeing her. “…and of those girls, no offense meant, but your sister is absolutely not my type.”

“Well. That’s. Er,” Sae uttered. She cleared her throat as she shifted her weight. “I-is this really the time to discuss this? What’s done is done.”

“L-look, that—that wasn’t the point!” Makoto protested hotly, still bright red. “The point is that if you were his guardian, you should have actually looked after him!”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Akechi insisted, touching a pair of fingers to his temple. “It’s not like Sae-san wanted to be my guardian. She was forced into it.”

She whirled on him. “That’s no reason not to take it seriously!! If she had, then maybe you wouldn’t have—”

Makoto cut herself off, which was good, because Akechi had been about to do it for her. Silence as tense as a coiled snake curled around the three of them. Then he cleared his throat.

“Look. I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” he said, more stiff than gentle. “But it’s as Sae-san said: what’s done is done.” He nodded to Sae. “Sorry to hold you up. I’ll walk Makoto back to the apartment.”

“...Thanks,” she said, stepping inside the elevator. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Makoto stomped back to the apartment before the elevator doors had finished closing, so Akechi had to hurry after her. Once they were both inside, she turned to him, hands clenched.

“Why are you okay with this?” she asked, voice low.

“It’s not that I’m okay with it, per se. But both of us were forced into a situation we didn’t want, and it’s all in the past now. There’s no reason to get bent out of shape over it.”

“Bullshit!! You spent the last two years murdering your way towards revenge against a man who was never even in your life for being a failure as a parent! There’s no way you didn’t hold a grudge against Sis for being a bad guardian!”

Akechi gave her a flat stare and said nothing.

She held his stare in defiance. After a few seconds of silence, her eyes widened in realization. “Wait. Is that why you had us raid her Palace in the first place? Was that your revenge against her?”

He rubbed his temples. “No, of course not. ...is what I’d like to say, but I can’t deny there were elements of that there. Mostly, though, it was because she was a convenient target for the plan to catch Joker in the act.”

“...I see.” Makoto bowed her head. “Then what about now?”

For a moment, Akechi mulled it over. It was true he’d resented Sae for being just like the other adults who treated him like a burden. But while she’d been emotionally neglectful, she’d performed adequately in the technical aspects. Of course, even Shido had ended up paying for his schooling and apartment once the mental shutdown business started, but this was this and that was that. Sae’s anger at having to deal with him had been nigh palpable at times, but she’d also habitually taken him out to dinner, and she’d talked to him seriously about cases.

“I don’t hate her,” he said slowly. “I don’t like her, either. I’d go so far as to say I dislike her, even. But I don’t hate her.”

Makoto shut her eyes, grimacing. “I see,” she repeated.

“Why are you so hung up on this?” he added. “It’s unlike you.”

“You think so?” She frowned up at him. “Maybe it’s unlike the me you used to know. But the situation you described, where Sis is your legal guardian but left you to fend for yourself, is just so flagrantly unjust to me. I’m shocked that the two of you see nothing wrong with it.”

“Is it? Then let me ask you this. Would it have been okay for Sae-san to leave me to my own devices so long as she’d never been appointed my guardian?”

“Th-that’s...”

He lowered his eyes. “I’ll admit it would have been nice to have a warmer, kinder guardian. But...” He met her gaze. “Living alone has its own advantages: privacy and freedom, for example. And if Sae-san had let me move in with you two, it would have only caused friction, even if we’d moved into a larger apartment to accommodate for my presence. I promise, the matter of my living arrangements was something we discussed and mutually agreed upon.” It’d been a rather one-sided agreement, admittedly, but he hadn’t wanted to live with Sae anyway, then or now.

“Oh… I see.” Makoto pursed her lips. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry. I do see your point, now that you’ve laid it out. I got carried away.”

“It’s fine,” he said, and was surprised to find he meant it. Because of that, he added, “Actually, on some level, it was nice. It’s not often people jump to my defense so passionately. I… appreciate it.”

“Akechi-kun…” Her expression warmed. “You’re welcome.” She paused a beat. “So… you’re, um, also gay, then?”

“Technically, for me, the term is bisexual. But we do seem to be birds of a feather, yes.”

“Ah.” An awkward pause. Then she let out a nervous giggle as she pushed back a lock of her hair. “It’s funny, really. When we first met, I never thought we’d become this… open with each other.”

He smiled a little. “You’re right. Amamiya’s one thing, but I wouldn’t have imagined we’d get this… friendly.”

“Oh? Is Ren that special to you?”

“Amamiya’s special, period, and you know it.”

“True.” She paused, gaze searching. “Do you...” She paused again, seeing him tense; then she shook her head. “No, never mind. On another note, I’m a little surprised it’s so rare for you to have people stick up for you. Don’t you have legions of adoring fans on your side?”

He sneered. “Oh, you mean the fans who turn on me the second I’m not perfect enough for them? Fuck them.”

Her eyes flew wide. “Akechi-kun!!”

“...But keep that sentiment between you and me.”

Makoto gawked a second longer; then she broke into laughter. “Fine. I will.” She half-turned towards the table, smiling at him. “Let’s get back to studying, then, all right?”

He smiled back. Strange. He’d planned just to curry favor with her, but now… he could sense the stirrings of a real bond between them. “All right.”

Chapter Text

“Looks like the first one’s just inside,” said Crow, gesturing Joker and Noir closer to the swirling miasma at the end of a Mementos railway track. Once they’d gotten a decent look through the whorling darkness at the Shadow skulking deeper within, he leaned back and folded his arms over his white-clad chest. “So who’s going first? Noir?”

She and Joker leaned back too. Though he thought she might be eager to root out the untrustworthy from her late father’s company, she looked decidedly unenthusiastic. “I’m not comfortable going first. I can’t even question people in real life, let alone their Shadows,” she admitted. Her masked gaze went to Joker. “I’d rather have a lead I could follow first, if that’s all right?”

He nodded, then looked at him. “Crow. You go.”

Crow held back a smile. Joker’s decisiveness was always charming, and he enjoyed the implied trust. He nodded once and turned to head inside.

Except: “Wait.”

He looked over his shoulder. “What?”

“Tell me our objective first.”

That rubbed him the wrong way. If he was going to trust him to take point, why not trust him to remember the team objective? But then, trust was something Joker had little reason to give him, so Crow kept his mouth shut and turned back around. When he had Joker’s heart, things would be different. He just had to look forward to then.

“We’re here to question Shadows of certain Okumura Foods board members in regards to the Tokyo conspiracy, while the others work on requests,” he recited, thinking briefly of Queen and the others, who were elsewhere in Mementos fulfilling requests to steal hearts from the so-called Phan-site. Everyone had agreed that if they were going to go to Mementos, they may as well be efficient about it. “There will be no fighting, stealing, or death. We’re simply going in to collect information.”

Joker nodded. “OK, good.”

And that was that. Crow glanced at Noir, who watched him unsmiling. “There is one thing...”

“Yeah?”

He looked back at Joker. “If you’re having me go first, I assume it’s because you want to know how I do things. Right?”

Joker nodded again.

“My Shadow-questioning methods can be a little… rough. I won’t kill anyone, I promise,” he added, because that felt like something that needed to be made explicit. “But it will probably look, ah, alarming at first blush. If that’s a problem, you might want to take the lead instead.”

He bowed his head without responding. Crow let him think it over. There hadn’t been a chance to talk about the details of questioning Shadows before now… or rather, he hadn’t wanted to go into the details with everyone present. Technically he wasn’t going into the details now. But there was only one thing Shadows universally respected, and experience had shown him that going in with even the slightest hesitation was a good way to get oneself nearly killed. If Joker had any sense, and Crow knew he did, he’d see that too.

So he smiled for real when Joker finally shook his head.

“You’re good,” he said. “We’ll watch.”

“All right,” he replied, and strode through the dark portal.

Noir watched Crow go, heart thumping with unease. She and Joker lurked just within the darkness, enough to hide them from view, but not so much that they couldn’t see the Shadow deeper within and how Crow approached it with back straight and gait smooth. His obnoxiously-princely Robin Hood outfit set her on edge, but then, was there anything about him that didn’t? It felt so long ago, that moment she thought maybe they could get along. After he functionally declared war over Joker’s love, that moment died a fiery death.

Speaking of whom, she flinched when Joker rested a hand on her shoulder, then relaxed and smiled up at him. He smiled in return, dark eyes reassuring behind his mask.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured. “When all this is over, you’ll be glad we took care of this.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she murmured back, slipping her hand on top of his. “I just have the jitters, that’s all. I expect Crow is good at this, but—”

She almost missed it. The Shadow of the first board member addressed Crow with hostility. Without breaking stride, Crow drew his light saber-style sword, then launched himself forward. His blade pierced the Shadow’s shoulder, and the Shadow screamed, jolting Noir and Joker to alarmed attention. Crow, without missing a beat, lashed out a kick and knocked the Shadow to the ground, then loomed over him.

“What’s your connection with Masayoshi Shido and the web of conspiracy he’s formed across Tokyo?” Crow demanded, voice carrying, tone eerily indifferent.

“M-M-Masayoshi Shido?!” the Shadow bellowed, more in fear than anger. “Who are you?! What do you want with me?!”

Crow stabbed him in the other shoulder. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

The Shadow screamed again. Noir flinched, but her heart pounded. That was the one who’d gotten all pompous and tried to argue that the marriage contract had to be real. He’d talked down to her on many an occasion. His terror made a certain feeling tingle all over her. Noir squirmed and tried not to let it distract her.

“I-I understand! I understand! But I’m barely involved with him! It was Okumura-san who had the biggest connection!”

“Did you ever have the chance to request a mental shutdown?”

“H-how do you know about—fine! Fine!!” he yelped as Crow dug his blade in deeper. “I did!! But only once, and Okumura-san passed the request on for me!!”

“If you were ever a customer of Shido’s shutdown service, then there’s nothing ‘barely’ about your involvement with him,” Crow replied coldly. “And those who request assassins invite assassins in turn.”

“W-wait… Are you… you couldn’t… you couldn’t possibly be…!”

“Oh?” Blue flames scorched up Crow’s body, searing away his white uniform and red mask for his belts and stripes and face-covering helm, transforming his light saber into a jagged, rust-edged blade. “Couldn’t I?”

The Shadow screamed. It was a scream beyond screaming: an aural manifestation of primal fear. Noir clutched Joker’s arm, breath hitching. She ought to be appalled. She ought to be horrified. And in a sense, she was.

By how much she was aroused. By Crow.

The Shadow didn’t so much break as shatter. After a minute of blubbering and begging for mercy, he spilled everything Crow asked him faster than seeds from a torn birdseed bag. It was about now that Crow switched on the malevolent glee, laughing and taunting and being creepy as hell. Noir clutched Joker’s arm harder as she bit her lip hard.

“Are you okay?” Joker murmured, skyrocketing her pulse.

“I-I’m okay,” she whispered back. “I’m just feeling a little… ill.”

“If you need to step out, do it. I’ll keep watch.”

She shook her head rapidly. “No, no, I couldn’t do that. But it’s just...” She trailed off, staring at Crow as he smashed a heel into one of the Shadow’s shoulder wounds, cackling like an anime villain. She shivered and struggled to keep her breathing under control. “Why do you like him?” she whispered instead, partly to distract herself, partly because she really wanted, needed to know.

“I like everybody I’ve fought alongside,” Joker murmured.

Noir narrowed her eyes at him. “Even though he betrayed us?”

“That’s not fair. We all agreed to give him another chance.”

She lowered her gaze. The Shadow was sobbing brokenly now, occasionally answering Crow’s low-tone questions. She couldn’t hear their conversation from here, and she was afraid to give free rein to her imagination. “I just… can’t bring myself to like him,” she murmured with difficulty. “I can feel sorry for him, and I know he is trying to help us for real now, but… he’s a terrible person. Just watching him makes that clear all over again.”

Joker said nothing at first. She wondered guiltily if he’d noticed her little shivers and realized what that implied about her. If what Crow was doing made him a bad person, what did it make her for getting excited by it?

“I understand,” he murmured after a moment. “In the end, I can’t make you two resolve your differences. I can only encourage you to air them out, and help you work through them.”

Her eyes flicked down. “I’m sorry. I know you want us to get along.”

He rested a hand on the back of her neck and smiled at her, which sent a brand-new shiver down her spine like a lightning bolt. “I want you to be happy. For us to be happy.”

“J-Joker...”

“Try giving him a piece of your mind. You bottle your feelings up too much for the sake of politeness and keeping the peace. It might help for you to just—come out and air your grudges. Even if you end up fighting over it, it’ll get everything out there.”

She gave him a slow smile. “You think that’ll work?” she said, but she thought, You’re okay with me telling him off?

He gave her a crooked smile in return. “Worked for me.”

Ah. She sighed. “You wanted to change your relationship for the better, though. And I know he wanted the same with you. I’m… not sure either of us want that for each other.”

Joker’s smile faded too. “…True. Things won’t change unless both of you want change.”

Noir pursed her lips and met his eyes. Though he hadn’t said anything judgmental, she thought she could see disappointment there. She bowed her head. “…It’s true I do want to give him a piece of my mind. I… could at least try that.”

“Good luck. Don’t get too out of hand, okay? And remember…” He stepped closer and slipped his arm around her back. “I’m here for you, Noir.”

She nearly stumbled into his chest, where she pressed her hands and flaming cheek. O-oh… This was… this was nice. So very, very nice… At first glance, Joker seemed like he’d be either the dark, brooding type or the mouthy, devil-may-care type, but he was actually so kind and caring… Her eyelashes drifted shut. It would be wonderful if she could stay in his arms forever.

So naturally, Crow then called out, “Enjoying yourselves?”

The bladed ice in his voice made Noir leap back away from Joker. Joker let her go, arm hovering in the air for a second before he slipped his hands in his pockets and turned to Crow.

“Already done?” he asked.

Crow had swapped back to his Robin Hood form and was sheathing his sword—wholly unnecessarily, since all of them summoned their weapons as a function of will—as he walked back to them. At his back, the Shadow was curled up in a ball and sobbing quiet, broken tears. He was still in one piece, and looked to be in no danger of smoking away into nothing, but now that Joker had grounded her, it was still a disturbing sight.

“Yes, I—”

“What did you do to that Shadow?!” she demanded sharply, nerves making it come out much harsher than she’d intended. “Is he going to experience real-world trauma over this?!”

Crow flashed her an ugly sneer. “No, Noir. At worst he’ll have a few nightmares. And I warned you both from the start about my methods. I didn’t do any permanent damage, so he’ll recover just fine with time.”

Joker nodded. “Good work.”

Crow shot him a faint but sincere-looking smile. The difference in his expressions was like night and day. “Thank you.”

Noir clenched her hands and straightened her spine. Murder queen pose, she told herself. I won’t lose to him.

“What did you find out, then?” she asked coldly, lifting her chin to look down on him.

Back with the sneer. Crow gestured forward, and the three of them passed through the portal and left the Shadow behind. Once they were out in Mementos proper, Crow folded his arms and looked at them both. At least he had a civil look back on his face.

“I confirmed our list of names from yesterday’s meeting,” he said. To Noir, he nodded curtly. “The notes you took were an approximate 90% match, and the three you highlighted were indeed your father’s co-conspirators within the company. This particular Shadow also detailed some less savory deals their real-world self was involved in earlier this year, as well as ones both inside and outside the company and who were connected. For example, your fiancée was meant not just to be your father’s ticket into politics and Shido’s inner circle, but after your father’s death, he was also to be an easily controlled puppet once he married you and took over as CEO. In short, this Shadow’s self and those other two would run the company through him. That’s the real reason he was so insistent the contract was real; he knew perfectly well it didn’t exist.”

“Good to know,” Joker said with far more aplomb than Noir could have hoped to manage in that moment. “Anything else?”

Crow looked back at him. “It seems like Takakura-san wasn’t involved at all, and was in fact something of a thorn in Okumura-san’s side in terms of running his company like a galactic empire. It’s fortunate for him that he wasn’t more of a nuisance; apparently, Okumura-san was already considering requesting a mental shutdown for him shortly before his death.”

Noir dug her nails in her palms. How… how could he say such horrible things with such indifference? Like it didn’t even matter? Like he didn’t even care? And he expected any of them to think he’d turned over a new leaf?

“I see,” Joker was saying. “That’s good news, right, Noir?”

“Huh? Oh… Yes,” she murmured.

Tone limned with sarcasm, Crow added, “Is your delicate constitution perhaps getting the better of you?You seem unwell.”

“Do I? How astute! It’s almost like you’re a detective,” Noir clapped back.

His lips thinned as he met her glare with one of his own.

“Easy, easy,” Joker said, resting a hand on each of their shoulders. “We still have a lot to do. Noir, do you want me to go next?”

It was sweet of him to offer, and she suspected he was trying to give her a chance to have it out with Crow, but she shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “I think I’ve got it now. I’d like to give it a try.” She bore another glare into Crow. “It can’t be too difficult to stab a defenseless Shadow repeatedly while cackling like a madman.”

“Power is the one thing Shadows respect most,” Crow snapped. “If you don’t immediately overwhelm one with a display of strength, then you’re inviting death!”

“And I’m sure—”

“Stop it.”

Noir snapped her jaw shut when Joker laid down that command like the crack of a whip. He leveled a flat glare at her and Crow in turn.

“Did you two forget what I said yesterday already?” he added, tone tight.

Noir and Crow shot each other a glance, then averted their eyes. Shame rose in a wave, and she floated upon it. She did remember, but…

“If you two have a problem with each other,” Joker continued, “let’s have it out. I don’t want to hear you two bickering all evening.”

And that actually stung Noir’s feelings. Joker had encouraged her earlier to tell Crow off, and now he was scolding her for it? Intellectually, she knew that what she was doing wasn’t what he meant, but emotionally, it was hard not to see it as him taking Crow’s side over hers. So:

“No, I’m fine,” she said, clipped. Breaking into a brisk stride forward. “Let’s get going to the next one.”

She kept her chin high and didn’t look back, and so didn’t see Joker and Crow watch her go.

This was proving harder than Joker thought it would be.

Of course, he never thought it was going to be easy. Not… not seriously, all braggadocio aside. But if things continued in this vein, he was going to have to take drastic action.

For the time being, he let Noir go, gaze lingering on her back as she marched off. Then he turned to Crow.

“What about you?” he said, keeping his tone neutral.

“I absolutely have a grievance to air,” Crow replied, tone as sharp as a scalpel. “I know what her personality is normally like, so I know it’s not just her way. Is there any need for her to pick all these fights with me? I’m doing my best to be cooperative, but it feels like—” His hands clenched. “Like nothing I do is good enough! She’s decided to hate me and that’s that!”

Joker’s mouth pulled to one side. Ah. “Are you saying she’d be wrong to?”

Crow flinched.

“I get it’s upsetting that she won’t acknowledge your efforts to be a better person. But that’s what it means for someone to not forgive you,” he continued. “You yourself said that was okay.”

“I… I did,” he said reluctantly, not meeting Joker’s eyes. “But this is more like… she’s deliberately trying to upset me. Am I wrong to be upset in turn?”

“…No, I guess not.” He paused, then turned to hurry after Noir and gestured for Crow to join him. “Is it like this when you’re working with her with the Okumura Foods stuff?”

“Yes… though not as bad.”

Joker tugged at his gloves as he ran. He had a bad feeling about what the problem was.

The two of them caught up with Noir by the stairs down, the next Shadow being on another level. Together, the three of them made their way three floors down and over to the shadow portal to the corner where the next Shadow lurked. This time, Joker and Crow stayed behind while Noir, who nodded stiffly to Joker, went on ahead, gripping her ax with tense hands.

She didn’t have Crow’s smooth, unyielding confidence. When she started talking to the Shadow, it immediately got hostile, putting Noir on the verbal defensive. However, when it started threatening her, apparently she decided she was done, because she swung her ax around and chopped off the Shadow’s left arm at the elbow.

“Tell me what I want to know or the next blow won’t miss!!” she snarled over the Shadow’s screams, just before swinging at it again in what turned out to be a feint, then snapping a leg out in a kick to knock it to the floor like Crow had done. She was a quick learner, and made up for her lack of experience with sheer, furious brutality.

Joker tugged at his collar. Damn, it was getting hot in here all over again.

“She’s not bad,” Crow remarked, keeping his voice low. “If she doesn’t keep herself in check, though, she might end up killing him by accident.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Joker murmured back. “To stop it from getting that far.”

“Hmmm…”

Joker glanced at him. “What’re you thinking?”

He shook his head. “Something mean-spirited. It’s better I don’t say it.”

Well. Okay. That was fair. “What do you think of Noir? You said before you didn’t hate her.”

“No, but I don’t like her, either. I don’t tend to like people who hate me.”

Yeah, that was legit. Joker returned his focus to Noir; she’d planted a boot on the Shadow’s chest and leaned her ax blade dangerously close to his neck. The Shadow was spilling his guts—only figuratively, thank god—as fast as he could. Maybe it was because he could sense her raw fury and thirst for blood that he cracked sooner than the last one did; maybe this one was just weaker-willed. Either way, at this rate, they’d be done pretty soon. That was good. Maybe Noir would feel better after venting her stress on this guy.

He glanced back at Crow. Crow watched Noir with narrowed eyes and folded arms, but blinked over at him as he caught his eye.

“What?”

“What do you think of me?” Joker murmured.

“W-what?”

Aww, he was getting flustered already. Joker kept his smile slight. “You said a lot of shit back in the cruise liner, but it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it? I want to hear the rest of what you feel.”

He coughed into one hand. “I-is this really the time for that?”

“Should I take that as you don’t want to say?”

“It’s… not that, but…”

“But what?” He drew closer, until the folds of his jacket brushed up against Crow’s coat. “When you shot my cognitive double, our bond grew stronger. I won’t let you say you didn’t notice. It was so powerful, even Mona felt it.”

Crow said nothing. From this distance, though, it was impossible to miss the way his breath quickened.

Should he press his luck…? No, better to give him a little space, he decided. Keeping his hands in his pockets, he added, “I know what it meant to me. But I want to hear what it meant to you.”

Crow met his eyes. Joker saw hesitation and hope therein. But then Crow glanced at Noir, and Joker followed his gaze.

She was panting as the Shadow smoked beneath her, both hands clutching her ax in a death-grip. The Shadow had taken some serious wounds—maybe serious enough that they needed to intervene.

“Bookmark that thought,” Joker murmured, then rushed in. Crow followed at his back.

Noir looked over her shoulder, then exhaled a long sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “I was at a loss on what to do next.”

“What’s wrong?” Joker asked.

Noir frowned down at the Shadow, who was missing some chunks aside from his hand. It glared up at them with golden eyes both angry and fearful.

“You didn’t dominate him well enough at the start,” Crow noted. “This is probably as far as you can go.”

Noir pursed her lips, but eased off of the Shadow.

“Y-you scum…!” it seethed. “You’ll pay for this. When Shido-san recovers—”

In one fluid motion, Crow drew his pistol and fired. The bullet clipped the Shadow’s ear and richocheted away harmlessly. The unholy light of infernal judgment in his gaze, he stated, “Corpses should remain ever silent.”

The Shadow made a shrill noise of absolute fear, then shut up. Damn, that was hot.

“…And that’s about how you should do it,” Crow continued to him and Noir, demeanor pleasant, as he holstered his gun. “You started out fairly strong, but I’m guessing you slipped up somewhere and got flustered, and the Shadow reacted to that. Maintaining steady, consistent pressure is important.”

“Yes, of course,” Noir said sourly.

“Let’s take this outside,” Joker said. He looked down at the Shadow. “Should we treat his wounds first? It looks pretty bad. He isn’t going to bleed out, is he?”

“No, Shadows aren’t humans. They don’t have blood, bones, or internal organs,” Crow said. “You can take chunks out of them as Noir has, and as long as you haven’t done so much damage their self-perception collapses, which has obviously not happened here, if they perceive it as an injury that they could survive, they will survive. This one will live. We should leave now, though.”

The three were all for that, so they left the Shadow behind and left the vortex. Once on the other side, Noir dismissed her ax and leaned over, hands on her knees.

“Th-that was tougher than I thought it would be,” she admitted. “I had trouble after he started begging for mercy…”

“It’s fine,” Joker said. “What’d you find out?”

“Not very much… Essentially the same as Crow, but there’s a little more. It seems like only board members and above were privy to joining in on or even knowing about the conspiracy,” she replied, standing back up. “Anyone lower on the hierarchy might have contributed towards the unethical business practices of the company itself, but they weren’t aware of anything below the surface. So once we deal with these men… that should be it for us.”

“Good,” Joker said. “I’ll take care of the last one. Let’s get going.”

When Joker pulled a gun on the last Shadow and kicked it prone when it panicked, Crow reflected that there was something exciting about how he could commit vile acts with such poise and calm. Perhaps Noir didn’t agree, given how hard she was biting her lip, but he didn’t care what she thought. Imagine what kind of partners he and Joker would make if they teamed up…!

Though, no, no, he shouldn’t think of it like that. He shook his head, then side-eyed Noir. He’d wanted to be rivals and friends with Joker, but right now, she had more of a rivalry with him than he ever had, though there was nothing friendly about it. The way Joker had encouraged her to cozy up to him earlier had sent spikes of jealousy skewering his insides, but later he’d asked him about… the nature of their bond… What did he mean when he said he knew what it meant to him? What did he want to hear when he asked what it meant to Crow? Had he meant it all in a platonic manner, or what is Noir who he’d been comforting as a friend? Who, if either of them, did he have feelings for? Or was Crow the one reading into things that weren’t actually there?

He glowered at the floor. He had no intention of losing to Noir, but—if only he could get a better read on Joker’s thoughts. Part of what had attracted him to him in the first place was how impenetrable he could be; he might have only played a detective on television, but he never could resist a mystery. Right now, though, it would go a lot towards… well, everything.

Everything that still mattered, anyway.

“Crow?”

Crow glanced at Noir. She was still staring at Joker, but her expression had set with a grim sort of determination. “Yes?”

“The last Shadow… he really will survive, right? He’ll be all right?”

He rolled his eyes. Hadn’t she listened to a word of his explanation? “Yes.”

“I see.” She paused. Then she fixed her stare on him. “Crow?”

“What?”

“What is it like to kill someone?”

Taken by surprise, Crow took a step back from her. So she’d asked that other question to lead into this? His frown deepened. “Why do you ask?”

“Who else would know?”

“No, I—” Dammit. “I mean, why do you want to know?” He forced a smirk. “Are you interested in getting in on the business?”

Noir flexed a fist like she was severely tempted to lay him out again. “I was just wondering,” she said coldly, “if you felt anything at all when you murdered my father.”

Crow shut his eyes and counted to five. Right. Of course it was about that. Right. He was the one who’d done something unforgivable to her… He couldn’t—shouldn’t—taunt her; not on this subject. Reeling himself in, he adopted a sufficiently grave expression. “Telling you that wouldn’t do you any good,” he murmured. “For your own sake, you’re better off not knowing.”

“Which? What it’s like to kill? Or if you felt anything when you killed my father?”

Both, you insufferable woman. “I mostly meant the former...”

“And the latter?”

He sighed and glanced away, trying to put a lid on his bubbling frustration. “That wouldn’t do you any good, either. Let’s say for a moment that I felt nothing but the purest self-disgust during the act, and that I’ve been wracked with guilt about it every day since. What would that change?” He met her eyes. “Would it make any difference in how you feel about me?”

That seemed to hit home. Noir lowered her gaze and said nothing.

Crow waited a moment just to be sure. Then he folded his arms and looked at Joker. Despite having used significantly less violence than either him or Noir, Joker seemed to have the situation completely under control. Just as he’d expect. It was another aspect of Joker’s that Crow both admired and hated.

“Why are you so upset about your father’s death, anyway?” he asked. “He treated you like garbage. If I were you, I’d be relieved he’s gone.”

Noir shot him a glare so sharp, if it were an ax, it would’ve taken his head off. “Father wasn’t always like that. If you’d just left him alone, his heart would have changed, and he would have gone back to the person he used to be.”

Crow smirked anew, but there was no humor in it. “Is that what you think? That if only I hadn’t killed him, your nice papa would have returned to you?”

“Yes. That is what I think, Crow.”

He shook his head. “That’s just wishful thinking, Noir. Even if Kunikazu Okumura were still alive, you still wouldn’t have your father back.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means a change of heart is, in other words, the transformation of a person into someone completely different.” He gripped his arms as he scowled. “That might be wonderful for the general public that suffered at their hands, but for those who knew them personally, there’s no satisfaction. Your ‘kind, loving’ father was already dead by the time his desires grew twisted enough to form a Palace. I merely made it official.”

“How dare you?” Noir growled. “Even if that’s true, I’d still have more of a relationship with him than I do now if he were alive. You had no right to kill him and take him away from me!”

His heart lurched, or perhaps his stomach, as he stared at her. Crow knew he shouldn’t be arguing with her on this point—he was in the wrong, end of discussion, and any attempt to say anything else would just make him look bad—but that just now made an unexpected emotion surge within him:

Jealousy.

“How…?” he rasped, bowing his head. “How can you love a man like that? He didn’t even see you as a person. You were just a bargaining tool to him! Why do you defend him so passionately?”

“Father wasn’t always like that! He only changed over the last few years! Before that…” Pain threaded and broke through the anger in her expression. “Before that, we were so close. As a CEO and a single father, he was extremely busy, but he always took the time to spend with me and involve me in his life. I adored him, and he doted on me. He did all he could to make me happy, and he always comforted me when I was lonely or sad, even though he must have felt just as badly after Mother passed away. The fact that he changed for the worse later doesn’t erase the love we shared.” She lanced him with another glare, that pain and anger sharpening it into a blade. “But perhaps it’s unreasonable of me to expect you to understand. Your father never loved you at all. How sad.”

That blow struck home, impaling Crow on the pike of his insecurities, and it knocked the wind out of him. Perhaps we could have had a different relationship; been as a father and son should… Shido’s words resonated through his head. Regaining his hostility, he grit his teeth, clenched his fists, and snarled hoarsely, “Shut up, you self-righteous piece of shit!! You think you’re better than me because Daddy spoiled you when you were little?! He was just as much of a murderer as I am, so you can get off your fucking high horse!”

“Wha—?!”

“Oh, did you never think of that?” he sneered. “What do you think it means to request a mental shutdown? Your father had over a dozen people killed so he could claw his way to the top!”

“A dozen people that you killed!!” she snapped.

But he saw the desperation behind her mask and pounced: “Yeah, I killed them! I killed them because your father wanted them dead!! You think it makes a difference he didn’t dirty his hands personally?! It still happened because that’s what your father wanted!”

She recoiled, but only for a second. “It never would have happened if you and your father hadn’t been there! You’re the ones who tempted him!”

“Tempted him? Tempted him?” he echoed in outrage. “No one put a gun to his head and made him put in shutdown requests! We made a service available and he chose to take advantage of it! If we hadn’t been there, he’d just have found a different, equally immoral way to crush his rivals!”

“A ‘service’?! Is that what you call mass murder? A SERVICE?! You really are scum among scum, Crow! The world would be better off without you!!”

“Don’t you dare look down on me! DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!!” he screamed. “You wanna know what, Noir?! Your father deserved to die! I don’t feel the slightest bit of guilt about it! I did this world a service by killing him, and you and your rotten company should be THANKING me on bent knee!!”

“Take that back, you bastard!!”

“MAKE ME!”

Noir ripped off her mask, so Crow did too. Above them, as those masks burned up in blue flame, their respective Personas shattered into existence, Milady flaring her skirts to aim the guns hidden underneath at Crow, Loki cackling as his claws curled around burgeoning flame to scorch Noir.

In unison, the two directed their wills and howled, “PERSONAAAAA!”

Milady and Loki opened fire. Bullets screamed, Agidynes sailed, and they met at the center between Noir and Crow to explode—on Joker and the Persona Siegfried he’d summoned to soak their attacks. Siegfried’s immunity to physical attacks protected him completely from Milady’s barrage, but he had no such protection against fire, so Loki’s Agidyne enveloped him in a massive conflagration. Joker screamed as his Persona soaked the attack, passing on the damage as psychological, and vanished in a smash of blue light; then he dropped to one knee.

Seeing this, Crow’s heart leaped into his throat. “Joker!!” he shouted, now in fear and worry, as he sprinted over to his side. Noir did likewise, and they each reached their leader and crouched next to him at the same time.

“Joker, are you all right?!” Noir gasped on his right. “I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to—”

Crow babbled on his left, “How could you jump out in the middle like that, I didn’t want to—”

“Stop,” Joker commanded. Both of them shut up, hands falling away from his shoulders. “Don’t lie to me with your ‘I didn’t mean it’ or ‘I didn’t want this.’ You were both out for blood. Am I wrong?”

Crow and Noir looked away in opposite directions, shame burning like acid reflux.

Joker waited a moment; then he eased himself upright, hands out for balance. Noir and Crow each took one, and he let them help him up. When they were all on their feet, he sighed. “I’ve finished questioning the Shadow. Let’s go.”

Crow and Noir didn’t argue, though Crow did glance towards the back of the vortex hole. The Shadow had retreated all the way to the back and was glowering at the three. Leaving before it decided to attack the three while they were distracted was wise, so they stepped through the portal into Mementos proper. From there, the three walked to the stairway platform leading up, where Joker stopped them and sat, then gestured for Crow and Noir to join him. They both did so, then suffered through a moment of intensely awkward silence.

Finally, Joker murmured, “This is my fault. I failed you both as your leader.”

“That’s not—” Crow and Noir both started to protest. Their eyes met across Joker’s shoulders, and they both fell silent as they looked away.

“It is my failure. I paired you two up for selfish reasons.” He looked back and forth between the two. “I consider both of you important friends. I thought if I had you two work together in the real and cognitive worlds, you’d start to get along.” He rubbed his forehead. “Instead, you tried to kill each other in the middle of a mission.”

Noir winced. Crow grimaced. Neither spoke.

“I told you both if you have a problem to let me know so I can help you work through it. Why aren’t you doing that?” When silence met his question, Joker sighed. “So it is my fault. Okay. I’ll make it right, then.” He stood up and faced them. “Starting now, the two of you—”

“Wait,” Crow interrupted, jumping to his feet. “You don’t have to blame yourself for this, Joker. It’s my fault. I let my anger get the better of me.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Noir insisted, standing. “I said yesterday that I would stop lashing out and I didn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Joker rubbed his neck. “I did encourage you to air your bad laundry with him...”

She shook her head. “No, I went too far and said things I shouldn’t have. I didn’t want to resolve anything; I just wanted to make him hurt. I’m… I’m sorry, Crow.” And she dipped into a deep bow from the waist to him.

“O-oh,” Crow uttered, put on the back foot. “I...” He shot a glance at Joker, then bowed back to her. “I-I’m also sorry. I was also out of line.”

They both lingered in that pose for a moment; then they rose, Noir before Crow. However, neither of them met the other’s eye, instead glancing over towards Joker. However, if she sought his approval much as he did, they were both disappointed; Joker looked back at them unsmiling.

“Well,” he said. “I’m glad you two apologized to each other without me having to make you, but I hope you both realize I’m not gonna let you sweep things under the rug, either.” He slipped his hands into his pockets. “But let’s leave it at that for tonight. The mission’s done, and you both need time to cool off. We’ll get together tomorrow and talk things over. Okay?”

“...Okay,” Noir murmured.

Crow nodded. “Mm.”

Joker turned sharply, coat flapping behind him. “Then let’s meet up with the others.”

He strode into the murky railways of Mementos. Crow and Noir hurried after.

The mood wasn’t any better by the time the split teams reunited and returned to the top of Mementos. Joker was inexpressive, and Crow and Noir were both uncomfortably silent. For good or ill, Skull made more than enough noise for all of them—good because he distracted the others, ill because Crow had rapidly developed a pounding headache and his painkillers were in his briefcase, which he wouldn’t get back until they got the hell out of here. Soon, though. For the moment, he sucked it up and kept quiet.

While Queen reported to Joker about the hearts they’d changed, Skull gave cheerfully boisterous re-enactments of the fights while Oracle provided special effect noises and Fox nodded along. Panther might have joined in if Mona hadn’t tugged at her ankle and pulled her away to a corner for them to talk; Crow glanced their way, but found himself uninterested in whatever they discussed. After everything, he wanted nothing more than to go home and take a long bath.

“...so overall, while we did have some trouble with a couple fights, we managed to successfully complete all outstanding requests,” Queen concluded. She held out a fistful of trinkets, five in all. “Here’s the Treasures we acquired.”

“Thanks,” Joker said, accepting them.

“How’d it go with you three?” she added, looking from him to Crow and Noir. “Did you find out what you needed to?”

“Yeah,” Joker said, expression unchanging.

“No problems with the Shadows?”

“Nope.”

“...No problems with the team?”

Joker said nothing.

Queen gave him a long look, then regarded Crow and Noir anew. They both avoided her stare. That awkward silence started to infect the group, until Skull shouted and thumped a fist in his palm.

“Hey, come to think of it, Crow! This’s the first time you’ve fought with us for real, ain’t it?”

Ugh. The siren call of painkillers was growing more and more insistent. “Oh, uh… yes?”

Skull slung an arm around his shoulders, grinning. “Let’s go out for ramen to celebrate! My treat!”

Crow gave him a blank stare. “Ah… ramen?”

“Yeah, I know this great place over in Ogikubo! Joker’s been with, he knows where I mean!”

Joker nodded, hands in his pockets. “It’s fantastic.”

“Ain’t it?! So you up for it, Crow?” Skull continued. He paused a beat; then his cheer faded into concern. “Wait, don’t tell me you don’t like ramen or somethin’?”

“Oh, no, it’s not that…” He hesitated. Exhausted and in pain as he was, he had to eat at some point. This headache might even be a result of needing to eat and drink; when did he do that last? And he may as well score points with someone in the group while he was at it. After the earlier debacle, he needed it. Crow thus nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on your invitation.”

“That’s the way to go!” Brightening, he clapped him on the shoulder, then beamed at the group. “Anyone else wanna come with? It’s the best ramen you’ve ever had, trust me!”

“No thank you… I’m a bit tired,” Noir murmured, eyes downcast. “I hope you have a nice time, though.”

“Oh, sure. Take care on your way… uh.” Skull watched her as she left for the stairs out of Mementos mid-sentence. “She does seem worn out, huh? Did somethin’ happen?”

Crow said nothing.

Joker watched her go too, one side of his mouth pulling down. Then he looked at the others. “Queen, would you mind seeing her to the train? Please.”

“Me? I don’t mind, but...” Queen paused, then looked from Joker to Crow, who was studiously avoiding anyone’s eyes. Then she pursed her lips in thought and nodded. “All right. Oracle, why don’t you come along?”

“What, me too? Uhhhh okay,” Oracle said, then followed her out at a jog.

“Ramen, hmm...” Fox mused as the two left. “It sounds good on a cold night like this, but I don’t think I have enough for dinner and train fare...”

“Aw c’mon, don’t be like that!” Skull complained. “I’ll treat you too, how ‘bout that?”

“Truly? Then I happily accept!” Flowers all but bloomed over Fox’s head. “Indeed, the greatest treasure in life is generous friends.”

Skull made a face. “Just so you guys know, I’m not treatin’ anyone else, all right? I’m not made of money, here.”

Joker chuckled. “I’ll take care of Fox for y—”

“HOLD IT!” Panther roared, standing up then, planting her hands on her hips. The others stared at her while Mona slunk guiltily around her ankles. “Leader, I’ve got a bone to pick with you!”

Joker blinked. “Me? Why?”

“Never you mind that!” She marched over to him and grabbed him by the ear. “But you and me are gonna have a Talk, right now!”

“...Like, right now right now, or—OW!” he yelped, flailing as Panther yanked him around towards the exit.

She waved jauntily with a bright smile at the others. “Don’t mind us, boys! Have fun at dinner!” she chirped. Then she strode out of Mementos, dragging Joker in her wake.

“W-wait, Lady Panther, this isn’t what I—ohhhh,” Mona moaned, then chased after them.

Silence filled their absence. Presently, Crow coughed into a fist.

“Shouldn’t we go after them?” he wondered.

“...Nah. Nah,” Skull decided. “Whatever Panther’s on the warpath about, jumpin’ on that grenade’ll just make it worse. Knowing Joker, he’ll talk his way out of it.”

“This is likely,” Fox agreed.

Crow considered this for a second. Then he nodded. He’d worry about it after he’d knocked back some pain pills. “After you, then.”

Chapter Text

Haru sighed as she settled onto her seat and scooted in towards the table. Normally she’d be delighted to have friends over in her room for tea and snacks, but after her fight with Akechi earlier, she was barely in the mood for anything. “Thank you for walking home with me, Mako-chan, Futaba-chan. I’m sorry I’m not very good company right now.”

“It’s all right,” Makoto reassured her, curling her hand around her teacup. “Thank you for inviting us over.”

Futaba, meanwhile, crawled over her seat in every direction, eyes darting towards each new decoration she spotted. “Ooooh! There’s so much pink! This is the girliest room I’ve ever seen!” she declared in awe.

Haru couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

“It does have an air of delicate femininity, doesn’t it?” Makoto remarked. “My room is so austere in comparison. Maybe sometime I could have you come by and give me decorating tips, Haru-chan?”

“Heehee! I’d love to, Mako-chan.”

She smiled too as she took a sip. “You seem a little happier already. I’m glad.”

Haru didn’t stop smiling, but her gaze did dip to the table. “...Thank you. You’re both very sweet to try to cheer me up.”

Futaba clambered around, pulled her feet onto her chair, and grabbed a cookie. “Lemme guess. Aketchy was a dumb jerk and said something awful?”

She sighed. “Yes… but I’m ashamed to admit that I started it.”

Makoto set down her teacup. “What happened?”

So Haru told them—not all the excruciating details, but a general outline of what went on during the mission. Makoto listened without interrupting, save to indicate she was still listening, while Futaba chewed her cookie with an intensifying vengeance.

“He deserved it,” she declared when she was done. “I knew he wasn’t sorry.”

Makoto pursed her lips. “Has he been like that while working with you in regards to Okumura Foods?”

“No… I wouldn’t call him pleasant, exactly, but he’s been largely polite and helpful,” she said reluctantly. “But… Oh, this is terrible to say. But every time I look at him, I remember everything he’s done and all he put us through, and I lash out.”

“That seems natural to me,” Makoto said. “Of course you’d be upset.”

Haru shook his head. “No, it’s not just that. It’s because he’s an easy target. Since he murdered my father, and he’s at least claiming to be penitent, if I say terrible things to him, he has to put up with them or he’s automatically in the wrong. And… what I said today really did cross the line. It’s no wonder he snapped and lashed back.”

“You apologized to him, though, right?” Makoto said. “And he apologized back.”

“Yes… but I don’t think either of us really meant it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because…” Haru hesitated, then bit her lip. One of the things she’d left out was how Ren figured into things precisely. She looked between Makoto and Futaba. “If I tell you two something, do you promise to keep it a secret?”

Makoto nodded. “I promise.”

“Promise,” Futaba echoed around a mouthful of crumbs.

“Then…” She lowered her gaze to her teacup. “The truth is… I like Ren.” She looked up at her friends. “…and so does Akechi-kun.”

“Oh,” Makoto said. Then: “Oh. OH! O-oh my.”

Futaba leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “Oooooh!! A real live love triangle!”

Haru grimaced. “Please don’t sound so excited about it. It’s been the cause of a lot of stress.”

“Oh. S-sorry.”

She shook her head and pushed her curls back. “I told Akechi-kun I wouldn’t lose to him… and he responded to me in kind. I only really apologized to him because Ren was so upset about our fight, and I’m nearly certain he feels the same way.” Her lashes drooped. “Neither of us wants to risk losing him to the other.”

“Have you talked to Ren about this?” Makoto asked.

Haru shook her head. “I… I’m afraid to.”

“Why?”

“Because…” She squeezed her hands together. “Because… I suspect the one Ren loves is him.”

“No way,” Futaba declared. “Ren has better taste than that.”

Makoto gave Futaba a brief side-eye, then focused back on Haru. “Why do you think that?”

“It’s just… that night in Shido-san’s Palace, when we fought Akechi-kun… Ren risked his life to save him. And then—I was standing right next to him, so I saw it—when Akechi-kun collapsed, and Ren caught him, he had the most tender look on his face… like he couldn’t be happier to have him in his arms.”

Her friends considered this. Finally, Futaba offered, “Yeah, that sounds pretty gay.”

Makoto coughed into a fist. “You never know. You might have been misreading it,” she offered, taking another sip. “Ren treasures his friends. I think he would’ve looked just as happy if it’d been you or me in his arms.”

“True. Ren is suuuper bend-over-backwards for us. He’s practically a video game protagonist,” Futaba said. “Sometimes he can be sassy, but, I mean… I know he’s done a lot for me. Way more than I think most people would.”

Makoto nodded. “Likewise. He was… well…” She blushed, scratching her cheek. “He agreed to be my ‘training wheels’ boyfriend for a few weeks, ages ago. And when I…” She cleared her throat. “When I realized I, um, actually prefer girls, he just nodded and said he was happy for me.”

“Oh!” Haru uttered, feeling her face heat too. “O-oh, I see.”

Futaba snorted and broke into a broad grin. “Bwahahahahaa! Ren turned you gay!”

“He didn’t turn me gay, I was already like that,” Makoto protested, blush deepening. “He just helped me realize it.”

“That’s the same thing!! Ahahaha, what a slam dunk!”

Relaxing, Haru broke into giggles too.

“L-look, the point is, Ren would do near anything for his inner circle, and for good or ill, Akechi-kun is part of it,” Makoto said hotly. “When he came back to Leblanc and threatened us, Ren put him in line but also offered him a place back, and that’s simply because he cares about him.”

“Meh. I don’t get why.” Futaba frowned, grabbed another cookie, and dipped it into her tea. “The guy would’ve murdered him if we hadn’t managed to put together the ultimate scam. There’s lines and Aketchy jumped waaaaay over it, y’know?”

“You really don’t get why?” Makoto said, eyebrows arching in surprise. “Weren’t you and Ren the first ones Akechi-kun talked to about his mother?”

“Oh… well… I guess that’s a thing, yeah. Even I felt sorry for him when I heard that,” Futaba said lamely. She shook her head. “But wait, that’s got nothing to do with Ren crushing on him or not!”

“I don’t know,” Haru murmured, picking up her teacup and cradling it. “Perhaps it’s just my imagination, since I only heard about this after the fact and I didn’t join until afterwards besides, but I have the impression that Ren’s attitude towards him changed after that point.”

Fubata sucked on her cookie in thought. After a moment, she pulled it into her mouth with her lips and teeth. “Huh. Actually, you might be right.”

“Come to think of it, do we know anything about Ren’s relationship with his own parents, or anyone else from his hometown?” Makoto wondered. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk about them. The most I know about his past is… well, his wrongful arrest.”

“I know a bunch of stuff,” Futaba offered. “His birthday, his blood type, his parents and what they do, where he went to school, his old hobbies and clubs and stuff.”

Haru smiled, a bit rueful but largely sincere. “That’s Ren’s ‘little sister’ for you. It must be easier to open up to someone he thinks of as family.”

“What? Nah, I just Smoogled most of it an’ hacked the rest.”

Makoto and Haru sighed in unison.

“Anyway, based on what I read, he doesn’t get along so great with his parents,” Futaba continued. “So. Yeah, I could see Ren hearing about Akechi’s evil dad and going, ‘Oh shit, I relate,’ and then starting to like him.”

Haru nodded, lips pursed. “I had a suspicion. I know I haven’t been with the group long, but when I first joined, everyone acted as though it was common sense to dislike Akechi-kun. But Ren seemed like he was quite fond of him even while he would occasionally badmouth him, and I thought that something must have changed at some point to make him revise his opinion of him. That must have been the catalyst.”

“Hey, ‘s’not like you don’t have an evil dad either!” Futaba said bracingly. “You’ve got just as much in common!”

Haru winced.

“Futaba… Maybe you could have phrased that a little better?” Makoto suggested.

“O-oh. Right. Um, s-sorry.” She shook her head like a wet dog. “The point! Being!! If you don’t wanna lose to Aketchy, you should just come out and tell Ren you like him!”

Haru felt her face heat. “I-I couldn’t simply come out and say that!”

“C’monnn! Are you the leading lady or some random NPC?!”

While the specific meaning was beyond Haru, she got the spirit of it all right. “You have a point… I think,” she admitted. “But I… oh, I don’t know how I’d even bring it up.”

“Have fun watching Ren smooch your dad’s killer, then.”

“Futaba!” Makoto uttered, scandalized.

But the heat that rose in Haru went beyond embarrassment or even fury. It was easy to imagine Ren and Akechi touching each other, and it made her want to break something out of… She sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Out of jealousy…? She took a deep breath, patted her cheeks, and sat up rigidly straight.

“Y-you’re right,” she stated, though inside her feelings remained turbulent. “I swore I wouldn’t lose to Akechi-kun. If Ren really does have feelings for him, I can’t afford to be timid.” She clutched her hands to her chest. “Now that I think on it, Ren tried to arrange an outing with me for my birthday. That was just before Akechi-kun returned with news about Shido-san, so we had to cancel. But maybe I could ask Ren about rescheduling and use it as an opportunity!”

Futaba pumped a fist. “That’s the spirit! Seduce that Ren! Punch out that Aketchy!”

“You probably shouldn’t punch him out again,” Makoto said wryly.

“You totally should,” Futaba said. “It was awesome.”

Haru giggled, partly out of satisfaction, partly out of nerves. The next moment, though, she furrowed her brows in thought. “May I ask you something, Futaba-chan? Do you dislike Akechi-kun as much as you act like you do? I would think the answer is ‘yes,’ but you seemed genuinely sympathetic to him during our battle, so…”

Futaba’s energy waned as she stared over her knees at her tea. “I mean… I dunno,” she mumbled. “I wasn’t lying or anything when I said I got how he felt, but it’s like, we were all on an emotional high or whatever then. Now we’re all back in the real world, and Mom’s still dead and it’s still his fault.” She hugged her legs and leaned her chin on them. “But then it’s also like, he wouldn’t have killed her if that bastard Shido hadn’t told him to, right? And then I’m like, I wanted to get revenge, too; maybe I’m too hard on him… But then I remember how f-fucked up I was over it for two years, and maybe Shido told him to but he’s still the one who went through with it, which means they’re both who I want revenge on, and we KO’ed Shido but Aketchy’s still doing whatever he wants, and then I hate him all over again. So. Yeah. I dunno. I kinda do and I kinda don’t.”

“I know what you mean,” Haru said, sympathetic. “In that case, Futaba-chan, how do you feel about him being part of the group?”

“I don’t like it,” she replied decisively. “I know what I said about starting over anytime, but I don’t actually wanna be there for it.” Growing anger made her voice tremble. “I was here first! I never screwed over the Phantom Thieves! W-why do I have to put up with Aketchy shoving his him-ness in my face?”

“I feel the same way,” Haru murmured. “I’m not entirely unsympathetic towards Akechi-kun and his circumstances, but… I feel like I would be much more sympathetic if he weren’t here.”

“Yeah! Like… go do your fake detective thing back at the hole you crawled out of! Stop coming by Leblanc and making it weird for us!”

“No, no, I mean—” She hesitated. “I mean if he weren’t here. In this world.”

A long, awful pause stretched out. “S-so… you mean...”

“I mean I wish he were dead. That he’d died in Shido-san’s Palace.” She stared at her lap. “Isn’t that awful…? I know it’s an appalling thing to think. But that way, he could be a sad memory that we’d all feel sorry for, and then could put behind us and never have to deal with again.”

“W-woah. Um. That’s.” Futaba paused. “That’s k-kind of… I dunno if it’s cold or intense…”

Makoto’s visible shock indicated she agreed. “I… think I understand why you’d feel that way,” she said diplomatically all the same. “When my father, who was a policeman, died in the line of duty, I was so angry at his killer. If that turned out to be someone I actually knew…”

Futaba squirmed in her seat. “I-I don’t know. That’s you two, I guess, but me… I don’t want him dead. Just… not in my life. M-maybe that’s kinda the same thing for you, Haru…”

Makoto sighed. “It’s very complicated, isn’t it. No wonder you’ve been so stressed out.”

Haru made a vague noise of agreement and nodded. As terrible as that confession was, there was one more aspect of it that she didn’t dare share: if Akechi were dead, that meant her life would be so much easier. She could simply love Ren without trying to sort through those feelings on top of her grotesque, growing attraction to her father’s murderer.

“For what it’s worth,” Makoto added, “I personally do think he’s penitent. He didn’t say it explicitly, but given how Ren phrased his invitation back, and how Akechi-kun responded to it… and how he looked at you two before he accepted.”

Haru shook her head. “But he said he wasn’t guilty at all about killing Father.”

“Then maybe that means what he’s guilty about is killing Futaba-chan’s mom,” Makoto said. “Or maybe he didn’t mean what he told you, and he only said it because he was mad.”

“I get what you’re getting at,” Futaba muttered, “but that doesn’t really make him look better.”

“Well… no,” she admitted. “I don’t think Akechi-kun can make up for what he’s done so easily. Helping us take out Shido’s conspiracy for good is just his first step. But… he’s still starting out. I think it’s natural that he might stumble and make missteps.”

Haru blinked at her. “You seem awfully lenient towards him.”

“You think so?” Makoto grimaced. “To tell the truth, I learned yesterday that Sis is his legal guardian, but she basically left him to fend for himself. If she’d taken him in and looked after him properly, maybe he’d be in a better place now. Plus… if she’s his guardian, that makes us something like siblings… I guess. So now I feel responsible for him, too.”

Haru smiled. “Your big sister mode has been activated, then?”

Makoto smiled back ruefully. “You may be right.” Her smile faded. “Of course, he has to take responsibility for his crimes. But it must be incredibly daunting to do so with no help or support. I’d like to be in his corner and help him become a better person.”

She flicked her gaze down. “…Is that why you chased after me?”

“Not exactly. It is part of it, but Ren also asked me to.”

“Oh!” She blinked rapidly, wide-eyed. “He… he really did?”

She nodded.

“I just tagged along ‘cuz Mako asked me to,” Futaba offered.

Haru laughed a little. “I’m glad you did. Both of you, really. I feel a bit better after talking things through.” She sipped her tea, then set the cup down. “As thanks, would you two mind if I showed you around the house?”

“Not at all,” Makoto said, standing up.

“Imma just take this entire plate of cookies with me,” Futaba said, and then did exactly that.

Haru giggled, affection bubbling inside her. She really did feel better now. Perhaps having fun with friends was just what she needed to work her way out of her dour mood.

“Don’t try to worm your way out of this, Ren Amamiya!!” Ann barked, arms akimbo, as she glared down at Ren out on the sidewalk a block or two away from the train station. For someone maybe half a foot shorter than him, she did an impressive loom. “You’re not getting away with this kind of heart-stealing!”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he replied, holding both hands up defensively as he leaned away from her. “I’m just asking if we can sit down somewhere, have a drink, and talk about this rationally.”

“What’s rational about you two-timing?!”

“I-it’s a big misunderstanding… If you hear me out, I promise I’ll explain everything.”

“What’s there to explain?!” She thrust a finger in his face. “You’re leading on Haru-chan and Akechi-kun! Morgana told me all about it!”

Morgana cringed behind Ann’s ankles when Ren shot him a scowl. “I-I was just trying to get advice from Lady Ann for you...” he offered meekly.

“And it’s a good thing he did, because how dare you do this to Haru-chan!” Ann snapped. “Even Akechi-kun deserves better than that! How could you?!”

Ren’s jaw set. Then he slipped his hands in his pockets and stood up. “Ann. Do you trust me?”

This put her off her tempo. “What?”

“After all we’ve been through, do you really think I’m that kind of person?”

She puffed her cheeks out at him, eyes radiating suspicion; a couple heartbeats later, she relented. “Well… No. It doesn’t sound like you. But it still sounds shady as hell!!”

“Please. Let me explain. I promise it’s not what you think it is. And if it is, you have full permission to do whatever you want to me in punishment.”

Ann folded her arms and tapped a foot in thought, still frowning.

“…and I’ll buy you cake,” he added.

“Oh, fine,” she said, as if that hadn’t immediately won her over. “There’s a café a few blocks from here that has good cake. Let’s go there. But this better be good, mister.”

Ren nodded. Then he glanced down at Morgana. “You’d better come, too. I don’t want there to be any more misunderstandings.”

Morgana’s ears flattened. “S-sorry…”

So Ren scooped Morgana into his bag and walked with Ann to the café in question, passing the train station along the way. As they went, he glanced down the entrance for Akechi, Ryuji, and Yusuke, but they must have already grabbed a train to Ogikubo. That was fine. He didn’t want even a chance for this conversation to be overheard, anyway.

Once he’d ordered uji matcha cake and bubble tea for Ann, coffee for himself, and set aside the cream for Morgana, Ren put his thoughts in order.

“First things first,” he said. “What exactly did Morgana tell you?”

Mouth already stuffed with a forkful of cream, Ann said, “He wanted to know if it was really true that it was okay for someone to chase after two people at once. I asked him who told him that, and he tried to be evasive, but eventually he admitted you. Then he said that you were trying to date Haru-chan and Akechi-kun at the same time.” She slurped her tea. “And now here we are. So! How is that not two-timing?”

Ren rubbed his forehead. “Just checking, but do you know what polyamory is?”

“What? Well, yeah, it’s when you fall in love with and date more than—oh. Ohhhhhh,” she breathed. “Morgana, you didn’t say anything about that!”

“I said it just as Ren described it!” Morgana protested, head sinking halfway below the table.

“True,” she said, shooting Ren a narrow-eyed frown. “It’s not polyamory if you’re the only one who knows what you’re aiming for. If you haven’t leveled with Haru-chan and Akechi-kun so they can have their own say in things, then it’s not fair to either of them.”

Ren held up a hand. “I intend to. But it’s too early right now. I’m trying to ease them both into the idea first so they don’t reject it out of hand because of how they feel about each other.”

Ann leveled an unimpressed look at him. “Shouldn’t that be a sign you shouldn’t be trying to mess around?”

“I’m not trying to mess around. Honestly.”

“Okay, then how’ve you tried easing them into the idea so far?”

“Uh… well, before that, I’m trying to get them to not get along so badly…”

“Uh huh. And how’s that going?”

Ren grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Not great.”

Ann sighed. “I had a feeling. They both seemed upset when we all got back together today.” She ate another bite of cake. “What exactly happened, anyway?”

“They kind of attacked each other. With their Personas.”

Morgana sprang onto the table. “What?!”

Ann meanwhile choked, coughed, thumped her chest, and finally sucked down a gulp of bubble tea. “Are you serious?!”

“I really wish I wasn’t.”

“Ren, you can’t let this continue!”

“Lady Ann is right!” Morgana added. “This has gotten out of hand!”

He bowed his head. “I know. We’re all getting together tomorrow and talking it through.”

“And then what?” Ann demanded. “Are you gonna tell them you wanna date them both?”

“No, it’s about the mission first. Depending on how things go, I’ll rearrange the teams so they only have to deal with each other in the real world.”

Morgana’s tail curled. “Hrrm… Well, I can’t say I disapprove of your priorities, but…”

“It’s the real world they’re having problems in,” Ann pointed out. “Though I’m definitely all for keeping them apart in the Metaverse if they hate each other so much they try to kill each other.”

Ren clenched his hands. “…Yeah.”

“What set them off, anyway?” she added. “Haru-chan’s not the violent type—when it comes to people anyway—and Akechi-kun’s usually good at being in control of himself. Though I guess he hasn’t been lately.”

“I’m not sure. I only heard part of the argument. That’s one of the things we’ll talk about.”

Ann peered at him in suspicion. “Really? You heard part of it, but you don’t have any hunches?”

He grimaced. “That’s… well…”

“A gentleman owns up to when his actions have unintended negative consequences,” Morgana added pointedly.

“…They were arguing about Haru’s dad. But…” He leaned an elbow on the table. “I have a gut feeling it was really about me. When I broke them up, they both backed down, like they didn’t want me mad at them.”

“It’s definitely a love triangle,” Ann declared, nodding once. “They’re fighting over who gets to date you. They’ve both caught on you like them, but they don’t get you’re trying to ease them into the idea of a polycule, so now they think it’s gotta be one or the other.”

Ren hesitated again. He had a sinking feeling she was right. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Well, you caused it anyway, mister!” Ann retorted, stabbing her fork in his direction. Oof. This had to be how Ryuji felt whenever Ann put him on blast. “How’re you going to fix it?”

“Like I said, we’re going to get together and talk things over tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t fix the triangle! You already said you’re focusing on the mission! When’re you going to tell them you like them both so they know they don’t have to fight over you?”

“Like I said, once I’ve eased them into the idea of—”

“Nope. No way. Denied,” Ann interrupted. “You’re not the only one who gets to make a decision about this, buster. That’s not fair to either of them. You have to tell them the truth right away, or it’ll just get worse. No more playing around!”

His frown deepened. “I’m not playing around.”

“Oh yeah? And what about all that topless stretching you did in front of them?”

Ren made a face at Morgana. “You told her that, too?”

Morgana developed a sudden and immediate need to wash his face.

He sighed, then returned his attention to Ann. “Okay. I was playing around then. But when they were both into it, and we sat together, I realized I really like and want to be with them both. But Haru has good reason to dislike Akechi, and Akechi’s spot back on the team is still tenuous. I didn’t want to push either of them before they were ready.”

“And what if they’re never ready? Don’t you think it’s really unfair to ask Haru to share you with someone she can’t forgive? Or to ask Akechi-kun to share you with someone who hates him?”

“I do think they can get along,” Ren argued. “Maybe they won’t ever like each other, but Akechi’s serious about trying to make up for what he did. Even if I don’t date both or even either of them, there’s value in helping them come to terms with each other.”

Ann considered this, expression thoughtful as she slurped her bubble tea. She set it down and pointed out, “But that’s not what’s happening.”

Ren rubbed his forehead. “I know.”

Morgana cleared his throat. “You haven’t forgotten what we discussed either, right?”

He shook his head. “No.” Catching Ann’s puzzled look, he added, “Morgana had me think over who I’d pick if I could only have one. Don’t tell anyone else, but I decided on Haru.”

She leaned her chin on one hand. “Hmm… Then if you already know you like Haru better, why aren’t you sticking with her?”

“It’s not that I like her better. I care a lot about both of them. But...” He scratched his hair. “If I set aside my feelings and look at it logically, Haru’s the obvious choice.”

“‘Obvious,’ huh… That kinda makes me feel sorry for Akechi-kun,” Ann mused, eyelashes drooping.

“I don’t really like it either. I don’t think people should approach love like it’s a puzzle to be solved,” Ren replied. “That’s why I don’t want to give up on how I feel because the choice is ‘obvious.’”

“Are you sure you’re not just being greedy or indecisive? Like—okay, that was a rude way of putting it,” she added at his scowl, “but hear me out. You may think you like them both, and maybe you even do? But you already said you’ll pick Haru-chan if it comes down to that, which means, basically, you know who you want to be with. Instead of letting your thirst get the better of you, wouldn’t it would be fairer to them both if you pick her and be done with it?”

Ren narrowed his eyes. “No.”

Morgana sighed. “Ren, please don’t be so stubborn. This is no time to be a sore loser.”

He stood up, startling the two into silence. “Neither of you are listening. I’m not just thirsting after them, and this isn’t some game to me.

“I. Love. Them.

“I love Haru. I love Goro. Both of them are important to me. Haru makes me warm and happy; I want to support her as she figures out her own happiness. Goro makes me feel alive; I want to help him pick his life back up and find the right path. I want to be there for them. I want them to be with me.

“So picking just Haru would be an insult to how I feel about Goro, and picking just Goro would be an insult to how I feel about Haru. I know I fucked up in how I handled this, and that’s on me for being selfish, you’re right there. But I’m going to make that up to both of them. I won’t just give up on either of them, because my feelings for each are equal in strength. And even if I absolutely have to pick one, I won’t let either of them think they weren’t loved. Haru and Goro mean the world to me, and I will make sure they know it. That’s what they both deserve.”

Morgana blinked rapidly, ears swiveling until they pointed straight up. “R-Ren… I didn’t realize you felt that strongly…”

Ann meanwhile clasped her hands over her face, wide eyes sparkling with barely unshed tears. If they were in a manga, her pupils would have turned into hearts. “Th-that’s so romantic, Ren…! You really are serious about both of them!”

Ren leaned back, smiling in relief. “You finally get it?”

She nodded once emphatically. “Yeah!” She took a huge, enthusiastic bite of cake, then set down her fork and swallowed. “Okay! Now that I’ve heard you out, I do believe you when you say you sincerely like them both. I think you’ve been thinking about this a lot, too.”

“I have.”

“But there’s still a problem: you’re totally letting what you want get in the way of doing right by Haru and Akechi-kun!” she chided him. “ I said already a s long as you don’t come out about being polyamorous, they’re both gonna think they have to fight over you, but if you don’t bring that up as a possibility , you’ re not letting them ha ve a chance to figure out how they feel about it. Do either of them even know polyamory is a thing? Haru’s so sheltered, and Akechi-kun… who even knows?”

“I… don’t know.” Ren held a hand to his mouth, eyebrows furrowing. “Now that you mention it, I never thought to ask.”

“Oh boy,” Ann groaned, facepalming. “This is exactly what I mean, Ren. Can you really blame me for thinking you were trying to two-time?”

Ouch. That stung like hell. Still, it stung because it was true, so he decided to take it on the chin. “What do you think I should do?”

“Tell! Them! The! Truth! Or if you’re really insisting on easing them into it, ease them into it by asking how they’d feel about dating more than one person at once!” Ann insisted. She leaned forward, expression gentling. “I know it’s hard to be forthright with your own feelings, especially when it comes to people you like. God knows it was so hard for me to even admit to myself I liked Shiho, let alone tell her how I felt. It was even harder when she turned me down. But you’ll be glad you were. I promise.”

Ren mulled it over. For good or ill, she was right. As annoyed as he’d been that Morgana had gone behind his back, now he was grateful for it; Ann had cut through all the bullshit and told him what he needed to hear.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll talk to them about it tomorrow, after we’re done discussing the mission.”

“Great!” she enthused. After another hearty bite of cake, she added, “I’m actually rooting for you now, you know. Akechi-kun and Haru are both clearly head over heels for you, and I’d hate to see either of them come away from this with a broken heart.”

“Really? Even Akechi?”

“Well, yeah.” She twirled her fork around a pile of cream. “He’s just such a mess. When I think about how he’s never had any real friends, it breaks my heart. Before I met Shiho, I was alone too, you know? I know how it feels to have people judge you for superficial reasons. And, well.” She coughed into one hand. “I also totally get what it’s like to fall for your first real friend. It makes me want to root for him.”

“Ehhh?” Morgana declared. “But… but what about Haru?”

“I’m rooting for her, too!” Ann protested, looking down at him. “She’s so sweet, and she deserves to get treated right. I think Ren’s right to pick her too if he has to pick one. But if things fell apart, Haru has me and everyone else, because we’re all friends, not just her and Ren. Akechi-kun feels like… he sort of tolerates the rest of us because we’re in Ren’s orbit, same as he is, but he’s really only here for him, kind of thing.”

“Mmm. You’re not wrong,” Ren said slowly, thinking back to the battle on the Cruise of Pride.

“I get that sense from him too,” Morgana agreed, tail curling. “That’s part of why I’m worried. If he gets hope from Ren they could be together romantically, only for Ren to pick Haru over him, who knows how he might react?”

“I’ll take responsibility for that,” Ren said. “Like I said, I don’t want him feeling like he was unloved. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that, though.”

“D’you have a plan for the talk?” Ann wondered. “Is Ryuji gonna wingman for you or something?”

Ren shook his head. “I’ve been flying solo, so to speak.”

“Whaaat? Really? I thought for sure you’d be getting someone to help you out!”

He chuckled ruefully and rubbed the back of his head, then took a drink of his coffee. “I figured you’d all tell me to pick Haru and be done with it.”

“Oof. Okay, fair. But if you’re gonna seriously try to get a polycule going on, you really should have Ryuji wingman for you. You’re gonna need the support.”

“Agreed, but Ryuji doesn’t know I like them. Hell, Ryuji doesn’t even know I’m queer.”

“Seriously? Why not?”

Ren set down his cup. “Listen. He’s a great guy. Ever since I moved to Tokyo, he’s always had my back. I love him like a brother, and I’d trust him with my life. He’s my best friend. But—and I say this with nothing but affection in my heart—let’s face it: he’s kind of a dumbass.”

“True,” Ann said, crossing her legs. “What about Yusuke, then?”

“Yusuke once looked at a brother and sister sharing a friendly boat ride on the lake, mistook them for a couple, and declared them the Adam and Eve of passionate romance.”

“Yikes. The Boss? He’s an adult; I’m sure he’s got lots of experience!”

“I thought about it, but he’s ultra-straight, and I’m not out to him. I don’t wanna risk getting kicked out.”

“You think he’d kick you out over that? After all this time?”

Ren shrugged awkwardly. “Some things you’re better off not trying to find out.”

“Mmm… Yeah, I hear you.” She tilted her head in thought, then perked. “Hey, there’s always Mishima-kun!”

Ren stared at Ann. Ann held his stare and kept a straight face for about three seconds before she lost it. Both of them cracked up laughing at the same time.

“Okay, okay, that was mean,” Ann admitted, wiping away a tear. “And of course Akechi-kun’s out of the picture. Could you imagine him wingmanning for anyone, anyway? He’s too handsome and popular; he’d end up stealing your girl’s heart instead.”

“I don’t think that’d be a problem with Haru.”

“True. You’ve got a totally different problem there instead.”

They each mulled on this for a moment, Ann taking advantage of the moment of silence to polish off her cake. As she sipped her bubble tea, stroking Morgana’s back, she leaned back on her chair.

“Okay. I decided. I’ll wingman for you,” she declared.

“Really?” Ren and Morgana chorused, if in opposite tones.

“Yeah! I want you guys to be happy too, you know!” She leaned her elbows on the table. “So, let’s recap. You were trying to get Haru and Akechi-kun to get along better with each other, and then when they did, you were going to tell them you like them both and ask them if they’d be up for polyamorous dating. Right?”

Ren nodded.

“But right now they’re getting along worse than ever, so you’re gonna talk to them tomorrow about it, then come out with the truth. Right?”

“Uh huh.”

“If you want my advice, if you wanna ease them into it before you get into the heavy-hitting stuff, I’d say try to give them something to bond over. Maybe channel your charm into being funny? If they laugh together, that could help ease things a little between them.”

Ren rested his chin on his hand, considering this. “Hmmm…”

“Or else try asking both of them for help with something before you have The Talk. Everyone likes to feel needed.”

“Like what?”

“How about studying? You’ve been ‘dead’ for a while. You’re probably way behind on schoolwork, right? And finals are coming up right after the election!”

He hung his head. “Ugh. Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry. But that means it’s perfect, right?”

“Yeah. Good idea. Thanks.”

“Anytime! And if you think a big group would make it easier, just give me a ring!” She sighed. “God knows I need to get some studying done, too...”

Morgana cleared his throat. “If you want to give those two something to bond over, maybe you could ask about the Okumura Foods board. Haru said yesterday it’s going well so far thanks to Akechi’s help. Ask for details, and she’ll have to focus on the positives.”

“Oooh, that’s smart, Morgana!” Ann gushed.

Ren nodded, smiling. It’d be a natural topic given the nature of their mission in Mementos earlier, too. “Yeah. Thanks.”

He sighed. “I want her to be happy too, you know. And we all still have the mission to worry about. This is a bad time to have to juggle romance and a heist.”

Ann nodded, sobering. “That reminds me, Makoto and me are gonna hit ‘Hollywood’ soon, see how far in we can get…”

“Hell yeah! We’re finally in!” Ryuji whooped, pushing the door to the chuka-soba ramen place open and letting Akechi and Yusuke inside. “Hope you’re both good an’ hungry, because the wait’s over at last!”

“It does smell delicious in here,” Akechi said as he walked inside. Dr. Takemi’s painkillers they weren’t, but a couple tabs of ibuprofen had been enough to tame his headache from earlier. Still, best to get food in him while he could. If he was dehydrated, eating and drinking would ensure it wouldn’t come back. “Which type of ramen do you recommend?”

“My favorite’s the shoyu. Gotta love that soy sauce broth!”

“Then I’ll have that, please and thank you.”

“Hmm…” Yusuke mused. “I believe I shall order the shoyu ramen as well, with extra egg and pork, please.”

Ryuji made a face. “Extra egg and pork? Come on, man, I’m not made of money here.”

But when the three of them reached the cashier, who worked industriously next to the ramen chef who crafted each bowl with speed and care, Ryuji ordered a bowl with those extras all the same. A problem arose when he had to pay. Opening up his wallet, he found he was about 1500 yen short—almost two bowls of ramen worth.

“H-Huh? I coulda sworn I had more than this...” he said slowly, sweating. He flashed the cashier a strained grin. “I, uh, I’m sure I got it in another pocket, gimme just a sec!”

As he patted himself down frantically, Akechi frowned slightly and glanced at Yusuke. His attention was on Ryuji. Akechi leaned carefully on the counter, holding himself at an angle. A moment later, he said, “Huh? Sakamoto, did you drop that?”

“What? What’d I drop?” Ryuji stepped back and looked under his feet, and promptly found a pair of 1000 yen bills on the floor between him and the counter. Relief flooded his face as he picked them up. “Oh hey, here it is! Dang, must’ve fallen out when I pulled out my wallet! Haha, that sure gave me a scare!”

“I’m glad you found it,” Akechi said with a pleasant smile. Still angled to hide his back, he slipped his own wallet back in his uniform pocket. Since now he was focused on Ryuji, he didn’t catch the long glance Yusuke sent his way.

Soon the three of them were seated together at the counter, bowls of shoyu ramen steaming before them. The broth was clear and flavorful, not too rich with a kick of ginger; the fresh-made noodles were hearty and chewy; and the slices of pork were generous and not too fatty. Not too many vegetables, but what it did have were still good. Akechi generally didn’t care about the flavor of what he ate, as long as it was palatable, but he could see why Ryuji recommended this ramen so highly. Given the line they’d had to wait in to get in, it seemed this place was fairly popular, too. He added it to his mental list of restaurants-to-recommend.

“Delicious,” Yusuke declared, smiling with pleasure after swallowing a spoonful of broth. “Truly the best remedy for the winter cold is hot soup.”

“Right?” Ryuji said, grinning. “I told you guys this ramen was the best! What d’you think, Akechi?”

Akechi, who was in the middle of chewing bamboo sprouts, swallowed. “It’s quite good. Do you and Amamiya come here together often?”

“Every so often, yeah! He loves it too!”

“Hmm… Perhaps I’ll ask him to join me here next time, then.”

Ryuji slurped up several strands of noodles with gusto. “Too bad he couldn’t come with this time,” he remarked around a mouthful. “Wonder what Ann was so mad about. But hey, at least it’s not at me this time!” He swallowed, then looked at him with a mix of concern and interest. “So—Akechi. You doin’ okay so far?”

“Oh—yes, thank you. My headache’s already gone.”

“No, I don’t mean that, I mean with the group. Y’know…” He scratched his head. “Haru said she was tired an’ all, and you seem kinda more down than usual.”

Akechi blinked. “Do I?” He forced a smile. Somehow, it came less easily than usual. “I suppose that’s the headache to blame. I’m all right now, I assure you.”

“Okay, but what about in general?”

“In general?”

“You know… like…” Ryuji grimaced, glanced around, and lowered his voice. “With your dad and shit.”

Akechi tensed. In the corner of his eye, he could see Yusuke glance their way in the middle of gorging himself. His smile strained further. “It’s… fine,” he forced. “I’ve come to realize the uselessness of revenge. I’m not…”

Words abruptly failed him. He trailed off. He stared down at his mostly-full bowl. He set down his chopsticks. He drained his water glass.

“My dad’s a shithead, too,” Ryuji offered, tentative, like a hand held out to a stray cat he wasn’t sure wouldn’t scratch him. “He ran out on me and my mom years ago. It pisses me off every time I think about it. If I saw him today, I’d pro’ly at least wanna punch his lights out. So… y’know… I get how you feel, man. And… you know… if you wanna talk about it—”

“I don’t,” Akechi said, voice tight.

“O-oh. Sorry.”

“It’s… fine,” he repeated. He no longer tried to force a smile. “I understand and appreciate what you’re trying to do. It’s just… not something I want to discuss in public.”

“Oh. Right. Duh, I shoulda thought of that.”

He didn’t respond. Ryuji hovered his chopsticks over his bowl, looking intensely awkward, and Akechi was more than vindictive enough to think he deserved it. The dour atmosphere might have continued indefinitely had Yusuke not lifted his bowl, drank down the dregs, and set it down.

“Ryuji,” he said, looking over at him, expression completely serious. “May I order seconds?”

“Seconds?! Are you serious?!” he choked. “You annihilated that bowl in record time and you want more?!”

“Yes.”

While Ryuji made more strangled sounds of disbelief, Akechi pushed his bowl to his left, over towards Yusuke. “Would you like the rest of mine? I’m already full.”

Yusuke beamed at him. “Truly? Then I shall accept your generosity with gratitude!”

“You’re unbelievable, man,” Ryuji said.

“Whhhfffiwhhghhnnyhnhh,” Yusuke replied, mouth already stuffed with noodles.

He shook his head, then looked at Akechi. “You sure you’re good, man? You barely had any.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he lied. “But I am still thirsty, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Oh, sit down, sit down, I’ll buy you a drink! What d’you want?”

“Ah… Coffee, please. And a water refill, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“You got it, dude! Be right back!”

Akechi watched Ryuji go. Since Yusuke was still right there, he refrained from breathing a sigh, but he did shut his eyes. Yes, friendship truly was exhausting. But his end goal was worth it. If Ren would love him, he’d put up with a thousand of these walking-on-eggshell conversations.

“Akechi. May I ask you something?”

He glanced at Yusuke, who had paused in demolishing his second bowl. “What is it? If it’s about my father...”

He shook his head. “No. Truthfully, I have no interest in your father.” He paused, then bowed his head, looking troubled. “It’s about my father. Or rather, my father figure.”

Akechi’s eyebrows rose. “You mean Madarame?”

Yusuke nodded. “This is… difficult for me to ask. But I suspect you’re the only one who would know,” he said haltingly. “His Shadow mentioned a man in a black mask who terrorized his Palace… That was you, correct?”

“Yes…”

“If he was in such fear of you, does that mean you dealt with him often?”

“Relatively so, I suppose.”

“Did you… converse much?”

“We didn’t ‘converse,’ per se, but I did extract a significant amount of information from him in the course of my, ah, side work.” He paused a beat. “Which information were you interested in?”

“As keen as always. You saw right through me.” He bowed his head, shoulders hunched. “Well… this may sound foolish to you, but, ah… did he… that is to say… ever mention anything about, ah… me?”

Akechi blinked. “You’re talking about Shadow Madarame, not Madarame himself, correct?”

“Y-yes.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he folded his hands on the edge of the counter. “…He did. But I don’t think it’s anything you would want to have repeated.”

“I… I see.” Yusuke fell silent for a moment. Then: “Could you tell me anyway? Please.”

“I’m serious. It would only upset you, if you haven’t already heard it all anyway.”

“…I see.” He shut his eyes. “Allow me to retract the question, then.”

“Why did you want to know?” Akechi asked. “You’ve confronted his Shadow yourself already. Shadows don’t tend to be subtle; anything you wanted to know, I’m sure he already spilled.”

“Yes, but…” He rested a pair of fingers on his forehead. “This will no doubt sound nonsensical to you. But Madarame raised me from childhood as if I were his own… or at least, it felt that way to me. And while I did indeed confront his Shadow, we only had so much time to talk. So I simply wondered… that is… if, in the course of your interrogations…”

“If he ever indicated that, deep down, he actually cared for you?” Akechi guessed.

Yusuke nodded once.

He gave him a long, lingering look. It did sound foolish. But that was because… “No, I understand how you feel,” he murmured. “I went through that phase too.”

Yusuke’s eyebrows rose. Before he could speak, though, Ryuji ambled back into view and plopped down back on his seat at Akechi’s right.

“Sorry, man, they don’t have coffee here an’ I didn’t wanna wander too far to find a vending machine,” he said, “but I got you two waters! Hope that works.”

“That’s fine. That’s probably better for me, anyway,” Akechi replied, accepting the two glasses and draining one of them. He let out a short breath as he set it down, then glanced at Ryuji, who’d returned to eating. “Say, Sakamoto?”

“Hm?”

“Finals are coming up. How are your studies coming along?”

He made a face and slurped up his current mouthful. “Oh my god, don’t remind me.”

Akechi smiled. “If you like, and if you feel you need it, perhaps I could tutor you a bit? As thanks for dinner.”

Ryuji brightened. “Seriously?! That’d be awesome! I’m so friggin’ behind.”

“I wasn’t aware that you had ever been caught up,” Yusuke commented.

“Oh, shut up!” He slung an arm around Akechi’s shoulders, grinning. “So when you wanna do this, new best friend?”

“…Is a mere offer of tutoring all it takes to be your best friend?”

“Wh—hey, it was a joke, all right? Don’t take it so seriously.”

“Ah! Yes. Of course. Um… Let me double-check my schedule and I’ll text you back, all right?”

“Sounds good!”

After that, Ryuji and Yusuke polished off their dinners, and the trio left the restaurant to head home. As they walked to the nearest train station, Akechi glanced at Yusuke.

“Kitagawa,” he said. “About what you were asking about earlier...”

Yusuke blinked at him. “Yes?”

“A Shadow will tell you point-blank what that person really thinks. They don’t lie. But they also lack nuance, particularly when they feel in control. Now that his heart has been changed, you could probably have a relationship with him again… if you wanted to.”

“Hm? What’s this all about?” Ryuji asked.

Yusuke ignored him in favor of bowing his head. “It’s rather complicated. I do, and at the same time, I don’t. I suppose… I’m afraid of visiting him in jail, only to be rejected again.” He sighed. “If he never cared about me after all, perhaps it would be best to continue to move on with my life.”

“Seriously, what’re we talking about??” Ryuji asked.

“…You’re quite mature,” Akechi remarked, likewise ignoring Ryuji. “I could probably stand to take notes from you.”

Yusuke shook his head. “No, this isn’t maturity. If I were truly above this, I wouldn’t still have these lingering doubts.”

“No, it’s natural to have doubts, I think. Everyone wants to be loved.” Akechi lowered his gaze. Though his had mostly had to do with matters other than Shido himself— “In retrospect, I should have listened to my doubts more.”

Yusuke gave him a long, thoughtful look, but didn’t speak.

“Guyyys!!” Ryuji whined, taking advantage of the silence. “Don’t leave me out of the conversation!”

Akechi looked at him, deadpan serious. “My apologies. But you must be a level four friend or higher to unlock our tragic backstories.”

Ryuji choked. “DID YOU JUST MEME ON ME?? I BOUGHT YOU RAMEN, DUDE! I BOUGHT YOU RAMEN!!”

Akechi laughed and dodged Ryuji’s fake punch, which led to him dancing around Yusuke as Ryuji chased after him. Yusuke did nothing to interfere, but he did smile at their antics until at last the three reached the station. Ryuji gave up the chase at that point, leaning on his own knees to pant, while Akechi settled in on Yusuke’s other side, unruffled and smiling brightly.

“Geez, Akechi, stop bein’ so dodgy,” he gasped. “It’s friggin’ cheating!”

“Ahaha. You’re too kind,” he replied, beaming. “Well then, thank you both for the pleasant evening, Sakamoto, Kitagawa. Please feel free to invite me out again sometime.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuji grumbled. Still, he grinned and flipped his hand up in farewell. “See you later, man!”

“Good night,” Yusuke said, nodding to Akechi.

The three parted then. As Akechi headed for his part of the train terminal, he could hear Ryuji and Yusuke at his back:

“Seriously, how’d you get him to talk to you? What’d you do, Yusuke?”

“I didn’t do anything in particular…”

After that, they were too far away to hear. Akechi huffed a faint breath, but he smiled as he did so. Did he think friendship was exhausting? When its dividends paid out, it became astonishingly refreshing. He hadn’t felt this needed in a long time. Things had gone well with Makoto, too, if in a different way. Narrowing his focus—working on the group one or two members at a time—was indeed the winning strategy. Once Haru and Futaba were in the minority, he could make a move on Ren.

The prospect itself was exciting. What sort of move would charm him…? The traditional dinner and a movie? No, he’d probably prefer something unusual, something exciting. Maybe he could invite him to his favorite rock-climbing place to go bouldering with him? That felt better, like something Ren would enjoy. This way, too, Akechi could share a piece of himself with him. Then, afterwards… coffee and conversation would be good. Not Leblanc; the coffee there was excellent, but he wanted someplace different, someplace private. He’d have to go over his list of restaurants later, pick one that would suit Ren’s tastes while also having good coffee and a private, intimate air.

Then after that… maybe a walk along the bay? No, that felt trite. Dancing…? Also trite, but perhaps in a good way. Then again, bouldering would take a lot of energy. Dancing after that would probably wear them out. Maybe a cool-down walk along the bay wouldn’t be a bad idea after all. There were so many possibilities, it made his heart pound with anticipation. What a complete turnaround from his dour mood earlier! He was so glad he’d accepted Ryuji’s invitation. To think, if he hadn’t, he’d be sulking at home right now!

So lost was he in his daydreams of a happy future, Akechi almost didn’t hear his phone ringing. The ringtone brought him back to reality, and he paused, then went to one side of the station, up against the hallway of windows that overlooked the city. The caller ID showed it was Sae.

Oh, right. She thought he had a problem with his savings account. He hit accept and held the smartphone to his ear. “Hello, Sae-san. Sorry I didn’t let you know earlier, but that issue I mentioned ended up resolving itself.”

“Oh? What was the matter?”

“Ah, there was a transfer that seemed like it hadn’t gone through due to issues on the other end, but it turns out it just needed an extra day. I’m glad I hadn’t troubled you with it after all.”

“I see. All’s well that ends well, then. Are you busy right now?”

“Now?” Akechi half-turned to glance out the window. The sun had already set, and night was falling. “No, I was about to head home, actually.”

“Would you be willing to come by the prosecutor’s office? I need your brain.”

Akechi’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. Ah, yes. She needed his brain , but not him. Typical Sae. Typical adult. Still, as long as she needed any of him, that was enough. “Certainly. Do you need me to bring anything in particular?”

“Do you have the files on that organization on you?”

“Some. It’s not safe to have them all on me at all times, you know.”

“Yes, I understand. What you have now is fine; we can be more particular later. Let’s work this case, Akechi-kun. I’ll treat you to dinner later.”

We , huh. We… As in her and him, together, as a united front. His smile turned sincere. Somehow, even if it was coming from Sae, he liked the sound of that. “I already ate, but if the night goes long, I’ll take you up on that,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll take the next train over. See you in, oh, twenty, thirty minutes?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

He hung up, tucked his phone in his pocket, and hurried towards where the train to the prosecutor’s office was as he hummed to himself. Yes, friendship or partnership, it really did feel good to be needed.

Now to make Ren need him, too.

Chapter Text

“Mmmm, mmnh!” Ann stretched her arms high over her head, then settled back on her seat between Haru, who sat in between her and Ren, and Makoto, who sat on a chair on the outside edge of the Leblanc table. “We’ve been doing this for an hour now. How about we take a break?”

“Agreed,” Ren said, setting down his pencil. That was the signal the two of them had agreed on: ease Haru and Goro’s ill tempers by starting out with a two-hour group study session—by coincidence, Goro had offered to tutor Ryuji yesterday, which worked out perfectly—and then taking them aside privately once they were reassured that he needed both of them. “Anybody want some coffee? I’ll brew us up a pot.”

The group, which consisted of himself, Ann, Haru, Goro, Ryuji, and Makoto, sent up a round of yes-pleases. He slipped out past Haru and Ann to start a pot of the house blend. Couldn’t go wrong with that.

Studying itself had gone well so far. Yusuke, Morgana, and Futaba were exploring the ninja mansion Palace, and Sojiro was picking up a shipment of imported beans, so it was easier to focus with the smaller-than-usual group. There was a lot that Ren needed to go over, but between Makoto, Goro, and Haru, he’d managed to get down a streamlined version of the important things in his notes. He might or might not ace the finals once he returned to school, but if he kept this up, he at least wouldn’t fail them. That was the important part.

He returned a few minutes later with a tray of coffee for everyone. Once he’d set out the cups, he returned to his spot against the wall: opposite Goro, next to Haru. He wanted both of them close. Ann had ‘inconspicuously’ brought out a magazine while the others checked their phones, and when he settled in, she leaned forward.

“Oh, hey, here’s a fun article!” she said, way too loudly to be natural. Ren had to choke back a laugh at her bad acting. At least she had a real prop, because she folded the magazine around and turned it around to show off an article on firsts: first loves, first dates, first kisses, first, ahem, times. “Everyone here’s had their first kiss already, right?”

Ryuji sobbed and banged a fist on the table. “Why would you say something so cruel and heartless?!”

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Ann said, not sounding even slightly sorry. “But Haru-chan,” she continued, turning to her right, “you’ve had your first kiss, right?”

She blushed deep red. “I-I haven’t, actually,” she stammered, hands and gaze rooted in her lap.

“Huh? Really? A cute girl like you?”

“No… Until my arranged marriage, Father didn’t allow me to date…” Her lips twisted into a scowl. “…and I would die before kissing the likes of my ex-fiancé.”

“He was a real creep,” Ann agreed. “When I think about it like that, maybe you’re lucky you haven’t had your first yet. I’d be mad forever if I wasted mine on a scumbag like that.”

Haru smiled back. “I agree completely.” She heaved a deep, heavy sigh then. “I’m so glad our engagement is off now. I never have to deal with his pushy, handsy—rrgh.” She tensed up, fury burning in her eyes. “Just being around him made me feel unclean.”

“I’m so sorry you had to put up with that,” Makoto said in sympathy.

“Thank you.” Haru regained her smile. “It’s all right. He’s gone now.”

Ann leaned her chin on one hand with a smile and a wink. “So who would you want your first kiss to be with instead? It’s gotta be someone special, right?”

God bless Ann, Ren thought. She’s got all the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

Haru blushed maroon and shot him a split-second glance before she clasped her hands in her lap and fixed a stare on them. “O-oh, I don’t… I don’t know… I haven’t really… thought about it…”

Ren hid a grin behind a sip of coffee. God, she was adorable.

Ann giggled too. “Oh, really?”

“Oh, Ann, stop teasing her,” Makoto chided, though she was clearly fighting a smile too. “It’s hard enough to say that kind of thing normally.”

Ren set down his cup. “Does that means there’s extra reason for her to be embarrassed right now?” He shot Haru a smile. “In present company?”

She squeaked, then buried her face in both hands and shook her head.

Ren and Ann laughed. Even Makoto joined in, though she followed up with, “Seriously, you two, stop teasing her.” Ryuji meanwhile radiated question marks, while Goro took the world’s longest sip of coffee.

“Awww, I guessssss,” Ann drawled before grinning and shifting to her right. “Okay, now it’s the boys’s turn, then! At least one of you three’s kissed someone before, right?”

“What?! You didn’t even try asking Makoto! Or what about you?!” Ryuji demanded. “Why don’tcha tell us all about your first kiss, Miss Teen Model?!”

“Geez, Ryuji, you can just say you don’t wanna be put on the spot,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “How about you, Akechi-kun? A handsome celebrity like you has got to have kissed a bunch of girls before! Or boys. No judgment.”

Goro, ignoring Ryuji’s sudden breathing problems, set down his cup. “Sorry to disappoint you, Takamaki-san, but actually, I haven’t had my first kiss either.”

Ann’s eyes flew wide in genuine astonishment. “Whaaaat, really? I’m shocked!”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Well, like I said, you’re good-looking and famous, and you go out of your way to project this whole Prince Charming aura… I figured girls would queue in line for a chance to kiss you.”

“You probably get buried in chocolates come Valentine’s Day, huh? Bastard,” Ryuji grumbled.

Goro gave a delicate laugh. “I admit I’ve received a few confessions over the years, but not from anyone I was interested in dating.”

Ann tilted her head. “And you didn’t just make out with someone anyway?”

He actually looked affronted. “What kind of person do you think I am? No, on second thought, please don’t answer that.” He shook his head. “This may seem old-fashioned, but I believe that kisses should be reserved for someone you truly love. One’s first kiss, particularly so.”

“Seriously?” Ryuji said, dubious. “I didn’t think anyone our age thought that way anymore.”

“Aw, shut it, Ryuji! I think that’s really sweet,” Ann chided him. To Goro, she added, “You might actually make someone a nice boyfriend someday.”

A faint pink rose in his cheeks. Goro quickly lifted his coffee to his lips, probably in an attempt to mask it. “…Do you really think so?”

“Yeah, maybe!”

Goro shot Ren a brief glance, then drank, a furtive smile hiding at the corners of his mouth. Ren smiled too as he sipped his coffee. It really was sweet.

Well. Ann had set things up pretty well. Haru and Goro had both shared their thoughts, so it was time for him to step up. That was the other part of their agreement: he had to actually talk about himself, take down the walls in front of those two. Ann had told him he talked too little about himself, and he’d been forced to agree. He set down his cup and leaned his head back.

“I remember my first kiss,” he mused, a little misty partly for effect and partly out of genuine nostalgia.

Said effect was immediate. Everyone’s eyes, especially Goro’s and Haru’s, were immediately on him.

“Y-you’ve already kissed a girl?!” Ryuji demanded. “That’s so unfair! Why haven’t I heard about this before?! You totally let me think we were bros on the girl front!!”

“I’ve kissed a couple of girls, but that’s not really the point...”

“How many girls have you kissed?!”

“Just two.” A beat. “And some boys.”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT?”

“Oh. So you’re interested in men?” Goro asked with practiced casualness, flipping his gloved fingers through his bangs for that added zest of ‘I’m totally only asking out of mild curiosity and not because I’m incredibly invested in the answer.’

“Well, yeah. Gender doesn’t really matter to me, so I’ll date whomever as long as I find them attractive.”

“How fascinating!”

Ren bit his cheeks to keep from laughing aloud. ‘How fascinating’? Really, Goro? You’re fucking precious and I hope you’re dying from embarrassment on the inside.

Lucky for him, Ann came to his rescue with a surprisingly sincere, “I know, right?! I never thought you’d come out and share like that, Ren!”

He shot her an incredulous look, projecting as hard as he could the thought, Seriously? You’re the one who said I had to!

Either not noticing or not caring, she continued, “So what was your first kiss like? What’re you attracted to? Did you date everyone you kissed, or what’s up with that? How many people have you dated? Are you dating anyone right now?”

“Dish! Dish!” Ryuji chimed in.

“Guys, don’t pressure him like that,” Makoto scolded. “Ren hardly ever talks about himself, so I’m sure he’d rather not get barraged with personal questions.”

Ren rubbed the back of his neck. Makoto was on the dot, like usual, but… Haru and Goro both looked awfully fidgety, like they keenly wanted to hear more but didn’t dare ask. “I don’t mind this once,” he said. “Let’s see… answering in backwards order: no, three, mostly but not everyone, and…” He considered. How to phrase this? “Cute but dangerous,” he concluded.

“Cute but dangerous...” Haru echoed in a murmur. Ren could practically hear her think, Does that describe me?

“Dude, could you give, like, any less information?” Ryuji said, frowning.

Ren shrugged.

“And you totally skipped on the most important part!” Ann added. She held out a spoon like it was a microphone, eyes sparkling. “What’s the deal with this first kiss you remember with such a fond tone of voice? Inquiring minds want to know!”

Ren smiled, scratching his warming cheek. Oh boy. Well, he got himself into this, so best to commit. “Let’s see… I was twelve, in the last few months of sixth grade,” he began.

Ryuji choked. “That young?! I hate you so much!”

Better to ignore that one. “My best friend at the time was freaking out about whether or not he’d get a girlfriend in middle school, so he asked me if I’d help him practice kissing. I secretly liked him, so I said yes.” He leaned his head back again. Now that he was talking about it for real… it brought back all kinds of mixed feelings. “…We went to the park near where we lived after everyone else had gone home, and kissed until it wasn’t awkward anymore. Afterwards, we sat together at the top of the slide and talked about the future. The stars were so beautiful that night…”

“Awww...” Ann murmured, now hushed, chin on her hands. “That’s so romantic…! It must’ve really meant a lot to you.”

“…Yeah.”

Haru cleared her throat, gaze down. “You, ah… you mentioned that he was your best friend ‘at the time’… What happened? Did one of you move away, or…?”

Ren shook his head, nostalgia draining away and leaving him cold. “…No, we were friends until last year.”

“So up until you moved to Tokyo,” Goro interpreted. Rather graciously, at that. There were worse and more precise ways he could’ve put it. He paused. “Do you… still have feelings for him?”

“No. When I got arrested, he stabbed me in the back and threw me to the wolves.” Ren’s jaw locked into a grim, angry smile. “Now he’s dead to me.”

“O-oh, I… I see.”

“Are you for real?” Ryuji said, astonished and outraged. “The hell’d he do that for?”

“Basically, he didn’t think I was innocent.”

“What an asshole! Anyone who knows you for more’n five minutes oughtta know you’d never assault anybody!” Ryuji sobered with sympathy. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that bullshit, man. That musta been awful, not havin’ someone you trusted in your corner.”

Ren’s taut expression softened as Makoto and Ann nodded agreement. “Thanks.”

“Did you have anyone on your side back then? Family, or other friends? Teachers, maybe…?” Haru wondered, looking up at him nervously.

He stared at his lap. “No.”

“Oh… That really is awful.” She rested a tentative hand on his arm. “After an experience like that, I’m astounded you were ever able to trust anyone again.”

He smiled at her, gentle and affectionate. She’d grown up not knowing who she could or couldn’t trust, as he recalled. In his opinion, that had to have been way harder to live with than his one-off trauma. But he wanted to improve the mood, so he lifted a hand to squeeze her shoulder in a quasi-hug. “Some amazing friends made a huge difference.”

That got smiles and grins and happy notes all around the table, especially from Haru, who blushed and leaned in closer at his touch. Well—all around the table except… Ren nudged Goro’s knee with his foot.

“That includes you, jackass,” he said, keeping his tone light and jovial. “Stop making a face like you think you’re not part of the conversation.”

Goro blinked out of his cloud of glumness. “O-oh, was I?”

“Yeah, you were.” He winked. “And it’s a real waste of your good looks.”

He blinked again in rapid succession, then glanced away and busied himself with sipping his drink as the ends of his lips curved up.

Ren chuckled, then finished off his coffee. There was a lot more they could discuss, but their break had gone on for a while, he’d accomplished his goal of improving Goro and Haru’s moods (at least he was pretty sure), and there was still a lot to do today after they’d finished studying. “Anyway, let’s hit the books again. Got a lot more material to cover.”

Ryuji and Ann groaned, and Makoto scolded them. Ren, however, glanced at Haru with Goro in his peripheral vision, and gave them both a warm smile in turn. Both of them smiled back, cheeks turning pink. Excellent—they were both feeling good. That made the rest of the hour fly by. He retained what he studied a lot better, too.

Before long, the session came to an end. Since Ren had told them beforehand what he was planning, at least in terms of talking to Goro and Haru about the mission, Ryuji, Makoto, and Ann didn’t waste time heading out. Ann and Makoto mentioned they’d also hit their assigned Palace, which was heartening. Once he had things sorted out with Goro and Haru, he’d have to bring Ryuji to theirs, too. A week and a half… They could still do this.

Once the cafe was just the three of them, Ren let silence settle between them for a moment. The pot he’d brewed was long empty, which was good; he had a plan in mind for the second one. For now, though, he remained between Goro and Haru for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“So,” he said. “How are you two feeling now?”

“Better, thank you,” Haru said. “I, um… I really am sorry about last night. To both of you.”

Goro glanced at her but said nothing.

“I realize you are trying sincerely to help, Akechi-kun,” she continued. “That, at least, deserves civility. I may not ever forgive you, but it’s not fair of me to use you as a way to vent my anger just because you’re an easy target.”

His eyes widened. “I… Thank you. I appreciate that.” Then he stared at his lap.

After a moment of quiet, Ren prompted, “Akechi? Anything else to say?”

“Ah, well...” He glanced away. “I was actually just thinking, you’re actually a genuinely good person, Haru-san. It’s a rare human being who can talk sincerely about fairness for someone they hate.”

“Oh, um…” She blinked rapidly, then bowed her head. “Thank you.” She paused. “Um… If I may ask… about what you said yesterday about my father… that is, how you didn’t feel bad about it… was that true?”

Goro shot Ren an alarmed look. Ren gave him a slight nod in return, his intent to signal that he ought to tell the truth. If Haru was going to show this kind of initiative, especially as someone who historically had trouble with it, he wanted them to be as honest as possible with each other. Besides, as Ann had pointed out, forthrightness was the only way the three of them would make this work. And if it didn’t work, well, at least it wouldn’t be because of any misunderstandings.

For his part, Goro pursed his lips and lowered his gaze. “…It was true,” he admitted reluctantly. “I despised your father, and found great satisfaction in killing him.”

Haru tensed. “I see.”

“But the same isn’t true of you,” he added. “I don’t have a grudge against you, generally speaking, and I found no satisfaction in the distress his death and its aftermath has caused you, either. For that… I am sorry.”

“Oh,” she uttered.

Silence floated in the air like dust motes in a column of sunlight. Ren watched the both of them. That had gone swimmingly well. Honestly, way too well. It stunk of something each of them was holding back. He had a feeling he knew what it was, too.

So he cleared his throat. “I’m glad,” he said. “And I’m proud of you two, too. For being so mature about this, I mean. I wish you’d started out this way, but it’s obvious you both know what you did wrong, so I’m not going to fault either of you for losing your tempers.”

Haru and Goro both broke into relieved smiles.

“That said,” he continued, “I have this gut feeling you two’re only being as nice as you are now because you don’t want me to be mad at you.”

They both winced. He knew it. He rubbed the back of his neck. Ann’s advice had been to bring them closer together by giving them something in common. Probably the best thing to do before even that was to be direct. If he could make sure there wasn’t anything else going on… or if what he wanted was even feasible in the first place… Yeah. He’d start there.

“So,” he said briskly. “I don’t want you two fighting like that, and I can’t be there all the time to stop arguments. Let me ask straight up: is there any chance at all of you two ever getting along?”

They shot each other reluctant looks, then glanced away.

“I don’t know,” Haru murmured.

“I don’t think so,” Goro added.

“Haru, you acknowledged Akechi’s really trying to help,” Ren pressed. “Akechi, you admitted that Haru’s a good person. Even so, there’s still no chance?”

They looked at each other again, gazes this time lingering. They each frowned unhappily.

“I really don’t know,” Haru insisted. “I have a lot of complicated feelings, and I’m having trouble sorting through them.”

“I’m not against getting along with Haru-san. It would be easier for all of us in a lot of ways,” Akechi said. “But as long as that’s her position, I don’t think it will happen.”

“What kind of complicated feelings?” Ren prompted. “Is there something about Akechi beyond what he did to your father?”

Haru blushed. “U-um…” She shook her head rapidly. “N-no, nothing.”

“Bull.”

Her blush deepened to dark red. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. Just talk to me.”

But even with his coaxing and his call-out, she only stared at the table and shook her head slowly. Ren pursed his lips, then looked up at Goro.

“Do you have any thoughts on this?” he prompted. “Knowing you, I’m sure you’ve noticed something.”

Goro glanced at Haru, then back at him. “I have… some ideas,” he said reluctantly. “But I don’t feel like it’s my place to say if she doesn’t want to.”

“That’s fair,” he admitted. “Okay. Let me change the question, then. Do either of you want to cancel the plan? Either in the real world, or in the Metaverse.”

“I can keep going with both,” Goro said with unexpected promptness. “I’m used to working with people who dislike me. It’s not a problem.”

Ren raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t you complain yesterday about feeling like Haru hates you and there’s nothing you can do about it?”

He flinched. “Er… I mean to say, it’s not a problem as long as we can both be professional.” He looked at her. “Which… I believe we can do…?”

“I… yes, I think so,” she said with a reluctant nod. She paused, then looked up at the both of them. “Actually, that might be best. Staying professional will make things much easier on me.”

Ren nodded slowly, thinking. Staying professional, huh… This was a good opportunity for Morgana’s suggestion. “Has he been professional otherwise? For example, with the Okumura Foods board stuff? You said it went well the last time we talked about that.”

“Oh—yes, actually. That did go very well…”

“You’re happy with the help he gave you?”

Haru hesitated and glanced at Goro, who didn’t look any happier than she did. “Yes…”

“You sound unsure. Was there actually something he did that upset you? Did he talk over you at the meeting or something like that?”

“No—well, yes, sort of, but we had it planned that way,” she admitted, starting to smile. “Actually, it was immensely satisfying to watch him work. It made me think Akechi-kun is the sort of scoundrel you want on your side.”

Ren laughed. “I know, right?” In the corner of his eye, he noted the way Goro smiled a little, and leaned his head on one hand. “So what’d he do that made you so pleased with him?”

Her cheeks turned pink for some reason, but her smile widened. “He got my engagement with Sugimura broken off.”

“Nice. And yet you still can’t stand him??”

“Well, now that Sugimura is out of my life, he’s moved up the ranks from my second least to my first least favorite person in the world,” she quipped.

“I’m honored,” Goro said dryly. “If I’m going to be hated, I won’t settle for anything but the top seat.”

Ren laughed at that, and to his pleasant surprise, so did Haru.

“Seriously, though,” Ren continued, “you hated your ex’s guts. We were just talking earlier about how glad you were to be rid of him. Akechi doing that for you didn’t count for anything?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but…” Her smile faded. “As I said, it’s… complicated.”

“And you don’t want to go into exactly how it’s complicated.”

She shook her head.

Ren raised an eyebrow at Goro, but he just shrugged. Looked like he wasn’t going to say it either. “Okay. If neither of you will say it, I will.” They both shot him alarmed looks as he continued, “I didn’t hear all of your argument yesterday, but I did hear enough. Between ‘your father was just as much of a murderer as I am’ and ‘the world would be better off without you,’ that’s some heavy stuff you hurled at each other. We’re talking about that.”

They both grimaced. Maybe putting it like that was heavy-handed, but this wasn’t something he could leave alone.

“Akechi, you start,” he added. Haru had dominated the discussion for a while, so it was only fair he get his turn. “Obviously you were upset about what Haru said to you. Tell us more about it.”

He fidgeted for a second, then stilled. “So my father never loved me,” he muttered, bitter and sullen. “I already knew that. She didn’t have to rub it in.”

“Do you want to talk about your dad?”

“No.”

“What about when you went to see him after you checked out of the clinic? That had a—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

Ren reared his head back, blinking at the vehemence of Goro’s anger. Haru looked shocked, too. That anger swiftly melted, though, and Goro grimaced anew.

“I-I’m sorry for snapping. But you know it’s a sore spot for me,” he murmured, clutching his arm. “It’s not relevant to the mission or to either of you, anyway.”

“…I see.” That was true enough, he supposed, but…

Haru cleared her throat. “Um…” she faltered. “I’m sorry for what I said, Akechi-kun. I was trying to hurt you, but I didn’t realize how… how badly it would hurt you. I went too far.”

His eyes flickered as he looked up at her. Then he straightened his shoulders, folded his arms, and looked away. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have anything to do with that man anymore. I cut all ties with him. I’d just really rather if we kept all talk about him—professional. As it were. Please.”

Ren glanced at Haru, but Haru kept her gaze on Goro. “…All right. Um… and… about what you said about Father…” She bowed her head. “Of course, I understand what it means to hire an assassin. I know his rivals would still be alive if he hadn’t requested their mental shutdowns. I know that. I went through his Palace, too. I saw and heard it all. But… I really don’t think you understand. It hurts so much to care for someone who’s done terrible things…” She gripped the hem of her skirt. “I know he did horrible things. Don’t you think I know that better than anybody? But I still… I just…”

She choked up, eyes welling with tears, and sobbed. It was a strangled thing, like she’d tried her hardest to hold it back to no avail. Goro stared at her as if stunned, while Ren scooted close and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

To his surprise, though, she shot him a wide-eyed look, then gently pulled away. “Please don’t. I-if you comfort me now… I’ll feel like I manipulated you into it.”

Ren hesitated; then he let her go and pulled back. As worried as he was, if that’s what she wanted, he’d respect it. That was the least he could do.

Well. There was one other thing. “…I’ll go make us another pot of coffee,” he said, then slipped up and out of the booth.

Once he was in the kitchen, he glanced over his shoulder at Haru and Goro. Haru was weeping silent tears, based on the shake of her shoulders, and Goro looked distressed and deeply uncomfortable. He reached over to the table dispenser and handed her a napkin from it. She accepted it and clutched it to her face, shoulders still trembling, and Goro’s expression turned gloomy. There were plenty more carafes, but… Ren decided to wash the one he’d used as an excuse to give them both a little time.

Akechi watched Haru cry from across the table and wished he was anywhere in the universe but there. If it hadn’t been for her pushing Ren away, he would have suspected her of faking it to guilt him and pull Ren’s sympathy. As it was, they came down as soul-scathingly sincere. He’d offered her a napkin out of a need to do something, but it felt so pitifully insufficient.

He still didn’t feel sorry for killing her father; Kunikazu Okumura was an evil man and had deserved to die. But Haru was a different story, and Haru’s grief, as opposed to her rage, even more so. On top of being deeply discomfiting, it also made him a little resentful. If he had died in Shido’s Palace, would anyone have cried for him like that?

Even so, he endured it. After an eternity, capsuled in a minute or two, her weeping slowed and stopped. She cleaned her face without looking at him, then finally breathed out a long, heavy sigh.

“Excuse me,” she said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Right,” he replied.

Awkward silence. It was almost as bad as the crying. Back in the kitchen, he could see Ren glancing over his shoulder at them as he washed the coffee carafe he’d used. Akechi pressed his lips, then focused back on Haru. If Ren wanted them to come to an accord so badly, he’d just have to do it—or at least make an effort.

“Haru-san,” he began. “What is it you want from me? Is there anything I should say or do to make you feel better?”

She stared at him in surprise, then bowed her head. “I… I don’t really know. I’m not sure there’s anything.”

Great. Though that was admittedly a better response than some he could think of. He glanced back at Ren, and Haru followed suit; Ren caught their eyes, set the carafe aside to dry, and smiled.

“Let me treat you two,” he said.

“Treat?” Haru echoed.

“Boss said I can use the store beans, as long as I stick to the cheap ones…” He winked and held up a finger over his lips. “So let’s keep this one between us.” Then he strode down past the counter, trailing a hand over the bean jars towards where the most expensive ones were stored.

Haru watched him go with a soft smile. “Thank you, Ren. That’s very sweet of you.”

“What can I say? I want to treat my favorite people right.”

She blushed, and Akechi felt his face heat as well. They each caught the other’s eye. It was very sweet of him, but if only she weren’t here—and he was sure she was thinking the same thing.

“Incidentally, since we’re moving to lighter fare,” Akechi remarked, keeping his tone casual, “I’m a little surprised. Even if it was to help a friend, I would think a boy as young as you were would hesitate to kiss another boy.”

“Actually, you’d be surprised how many guys’s first kiss is another guy,” Ren replied, picking a mostly empty jar with a handwritten label. “Most boys are scared out of their minds of embarrassing themselves in front of a girl and getting laughed at.”

“O-oh, really?” Haru glanced between the two of them. “I could scarcely imagine…”

“Mmm… It’s true many boys tend to be proud,” Akechi said, holding his chin. “Though because of that, I’m even more surprised that… well. You make it sound as though you know it as fact.”

“Well, yeah. Thanks to that ‘friend,’ I had a reputation in middle school for being willing to kiss boys, so a lot of my classmates came to me on the sly and asked if I’d teach them. Then when they were satisfied, they swore me to secrecy and went off to find a girlfriend with new confidence.”

“Eh?!” Akechi and Haru chorused.

“Exactly how many boys have you kissed?!” he added.

“I dunno, I didn’t keep count. By the way, don’t spread that around. I don’t want Ryuji getting weird about it.”

Akechi shook his head. On the one hand, he liked being privy to one of Ren’s secrets. On the other hand, given the nature of that secret… “In what sense? That he’d get upset, or that he’d want his first kiss from you?”

He grimaced as he ground the beans. “I was thinking the first, but I guess he is exactly the type I’d be practice for.”

Haru tilted her head. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand. You make it sound as though ‘practice’ kisses don’t matter to you, but then you imply you don’t want to do it with Ryuji…?”

“It’s… mmm. I dunno. I like kissing, and I got a lot of experience out of it, so it’s not a huge deal, but… after a couple years of it, I started to feel a little used.”

“Used?” she echoed.

“Yeah, like—” Ren nodded to Akechi. “You said before that you believe you should only kiss someone you’re in love with, right?” He looked back at her. “Some of those guys I kissed, I did have a thing for, but none of them felt anything for me. I was just a stepping stone for them. And it’s…” Ren gestured vaguely with one hand. “I dunno. I’m tired of it. So that’s why I’ve never offered for Ryuji. I didn’t want to end up resenting him. The next guy I kiss, I want it to be because we like each other.”

Heart suddenly speeding, Akechi held his chin. “A-ah.”

“Oh, I…” Haru lowered her gaze. “I see.” She swallowed. “Umm… m-may I ask how your experience differed with girls…?”

“The only girls I ever kissed, I kissed because we were dating. So, there’s that.”

“You said that you dated three different people,” Akechi added, shooting her a glance. “What sort of people were they…?”

Ren smiled. “You two seem awfully interested in my dating history.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry!” Haru blurted out while Akechi clamped his jaw, both of them blushing. “It’s simply that it’s so rare for you to talk about yourself…”

“It’s fine.” He paused in thought, though his hands kept busy on the grinder. “My first datemate was a girl who confessed to me at the end of our first year of middle school. She gave me a love letter and asked me to read it on the spot. When I had, I was so surprised, I accepted her feelings without really thinking it through.”

“You didn’t like her?” Akechi asked.

“I didn’t dislike her, but… we didn’t have a lot in common. She was a nice girl, but she liked safe things. She couldn’t stand roller coasters, horror movies, or parkour. Nothing wrong with that, but making her happy often meant being bored to tears myself. The most intense thing we ever did was kiss, once, during spring break, and she made a huge deal out of it. Once school started again and we were in different classes and different clubs, it got harder and harder to find things to do together that made us both happy. We made it to three months before we finally broke up.”

“That’s so sad,” Haru murmured. “It must have taken her so much courage to tell you how she felt, and yet...”

“I know.” Ren leaned back, subdued. “I felt bad about it, too. But it just wasn’t working out. There wasn’t any passion.” He looked over at them with a wry, lopsided smile. “Gotta give you two credit there. I might not be happy about how things went yesterday, but it’s just one example how you’re both bursting with passion.”

Akechi’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s all a matter of caring about what you do,” he said airily, brushing back his hair, to try to look cool.

Haru wasn’t nearly as smooth. Blushing deep red, she stammered, “O-oh, thank you…”

Ren grinned. It did incredible things to his eyes. As he poured the grinds into the filter for a clean carafe, he continued, “The next person I dated was during the summer break of my third year. I was backpacking in the mountains with a few friends, and he was there studying local plants as part of a botany project for college.”

Akechi’s eyebrows flew up. “You dated a college student when you were in middle school?”

Ren laughed ruefully. “Yeah, he was way too old for me. In his defense, I lied and told him I was in high school. But…” He ran a hand through his hair. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for older lovers.”

Haru, eyes wide, prompted, “By ‘lover,’ you mean…”

“I mean in the sense gender doesn’t matter to me.” He paused. “But he did teach me a lot of things, if you know what I mean.”

There was no being cool about this one. Akechi and Haru’s faces steamed together.

Ren finished pouring the filtered water, then turned on the coffee machine and leaned on the wall. “God, he was hot,” he mused, gazing into the nostalgic middle distance. “Smart, funny, and adventurous, too. I was head over heels for him.”

Akechi’s chest squeezed like a vice. “Oh.”

“Wh-what happened with him…?” Haru murmured.

Ren shrugged. “Summer vacation ended. We both went home.”

He paused. “…That’s it?”

“He wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. He already had a girlfriend, in fact.”

“He cheated on her with you?!”

“I wouldn’t say ‘cheated’ since they had an open relationship. We were all polyamorous, so the three of us did more than a few things together, too. So I guess technically I’ve had four datemates.”

Although he suspected he knew its meaning from its roots, he still echoed, “Poly…”

“Polyamorous. It means I can, and do, fall for more than one person at a time.” He paused, and gave them both a significant look. “As long as everyone’s okay with it.”

Akechi slid Haru a sidelong glance; she looked stunned, like she’d never considered this an option before. Honestly, neither had he. Was Ren implying what he thought he was…?

“So yeah. That was it,” Ren concluded. “He let me down easy, if you’re wondering. I was heartbroken, but I got over it.”

Haru swallowed hard. “Are… you still interested in older men…?”

“And women. But yeah, probably more than’s good for me.” He laughed good-naturedly. “Next time I date someone, though, I’d like it if they were only a little older. Just a year or two, maybe.”

Haru and Akechi shot each other a Look. They were both eighteen to Ren’s seventeen.

“Then my last datemate was a girlfriend I had through my first year of high school,” he continued. “I loved her, too. She was my senpai in the club we were both in, so we had a lot of fun together.” He hooked his hands behind his neck. “She was vivacious, outspoken, courageous, and really assertive… She taught me a lot, too.”

“All sorts of things?” Akechi asked archly.

Ren grinned and winked. “A gentleman never tells.”

“You absolute liar,” he huffed.

He laughed. “Well, at the very least, you already know we kissed.” The burbling coffee maker clicked; he removed the now-full carafe and brought it with a tray of cups over to the table. “I admired her a lot, and I was happy with her… but in the end, we broke up, too.”

“Because of your arrest?” Akechi guessed.

Ren’s smile tightened. “Good guess.” He poured and handed out the coffee cups, then sat where Makoto had been earlier. “I thought she trusted me, but… I guess not.” He smile faded as he picked up his cup. As he gazed into it, the light glared off his glasses, hiding his eyes from view. Akechi watched the lines in his face tense even so. Then Ren took a sip, and it was like nothing was wrong. “Anyway, that’s it. I haven’t dated or kissed anyone since. Does that sate your curiosity?”

“Oh, um, yes,” Haru said quickly. “Thank you for sharing, Ren.”

He smiled at her, gaze tender. “Didn’t weird you out with any of that, did I?”

She smiled back. “I was taken aback by some of it… but no.”

He beamed, then looked Akechi’s way. “What about you?”

Akechi picked up his own cup. It smelled divine—as good as the Boss’s, or nearly so. “It’s just like you to have a colorful dating history,” he remarked, keeping his tone neutral.

He grinned. “Jealous?”

Immensely, he thought. Outwardly, he only sipped at his java with careful delicacy.

Haru breathed the scent of her own cup in with open pleasure. “How wonderful… Thank you again for this, Ren. Which one did you pick?”

“Not more elephant poop coffee,” he joked, to which she giggled.

Akechi, though, paused. “Beg pardon?”

“Oh—once I took Ren to another place for a particular type of coffee,” Haru explained, eyes sparkling, “and he was less than thrilled when I told him how the beans were processed through the digestive system of elephants.”

Akechi laughed despite everything. “I can just imagine.”

“You’re both assholes,” Ren grumbled good-naturedly, taking another sip. “No, I picked the most expensive one on the shelves. Nothing but the best.” He flashed them a crooked grin. When they both smiled back, he added, “It’s farmed from some country in the Himalayas, I think.”

“The Himalayas?” she repeated, curious. “Which country is this?”

“Yeah. Civet, it’s called.”

Akechi paused. He and Haru shot each other another glance, this time conspiratorial. “By chance,” he said, fighting to keep a straight face, “are you thinking of Tibet?”

Ren paused. “Huh… Actually, I think you’re right.” He took another slow drink.

“But the label said civet?”

“Mhm.”

“Goodness,” Haru said, a smile twitching at the ends of her lips. “That’s certainly an expensive coffee.”

“The most expensive in the world, in fact,” Akechi added. “I’m impressed the Boss had any.”

“Lucky us, then,” Ren said, smiling.

“Mm. Indeed.” Haru drank hers. Then she looked at him with wide, guileless eyes. “Incidentally, are you aware of how civet coffee is made?”

Ren eyed her. “You’re not gonna tell me it’s through more elephant poop, are you?”

“Goodness, no.”

“Good.” He took another long drink.

Akechi waited until he was mid-sip, then said, “It’s through civet poop.”

It was a magnificent spit take. Dark liquid sprayed down the table and nearly onto the wall, and as Ren banged a fist on the table, hacking and coughing, Akechi and Haru nearly laughed themselves sick. When Ren croaked, “YOU’RE BOTH ASSHOLES,” they only laughed even harder. Still, it wasn’t long until Ren cracked a grin and joined in.

Several minutes passed before they managed to calm down. Then Ren said, “Okay, first of all, fuck you,” and they collapsed into helpless laughter again. This time, their leader shook his head, smiling, and got up to clean off the table. He’d finished wiping it down by the time they had settled again.

“So, forget the coffee,” he said. “Let’s go out for a bite. Somewhere with no coffee whatsoever.”

Akechi and Haru shared another glance and snicker.

“If you say so, Ren,” she said sweetly.

“After you, o leader,” he added sunnily.

So they gathered their coats and headed out. Before they left, though, Akechi glanced at the jar Ren had chosen for their coffee. While it was the same kind of jar as the rest in the cafe, the label didn’t match, and the handwriting didn’t look like Sojiro Sakura’s. He touched his chin in consideration and lingered in thought; then he hurried after the others.

The destination Ren chose, though, put a damper on the previous high spirits.

“Big Bang Burger?” Haru said reluctantly as he opened the door and held it for her.

“Sure,” he replied, nonchalant. “They got a good special going on right now.”

She pursed her lips and entered. Akechi kept his mouth shut and followed. He wasn’t precisely enthused about his choice in restaurant, but he suspected Ren had something in mind.

There wasn’t a line, thankfully. Haru ordered chicken nuggets and a small vanilla-chocolate milkshake, Akechi a hamburger meal with Sprite, and Ren…

“Ah, you shouldn’t actually get the Big Bang Special,” Akechi told him. “It might seem like a great deal, but it’s actually more of a joke item—no one could actually finish it.”

But Ren looked him in the eye and replied, “I know what I’m about.”

Akechi raised an eyebrow. Then he flashed him his best for-TV smile. “Oh, do you? Well, then.”

When the three of them sat at a booth, and the waitress brought over their orders, Akechi smirked. His and Haru’s orders were normal enough, but Ren’s… It was a monstrosity. An entire cow had no doubt died to provide the beef for this single burger, and plains upon plains of lettuce, tomato, and cheese decorated each layer. The bun alone was big enough to serve as a pillow. Hilariously, it came with a regular-sized drink, as if anyone who would or could eat this abomination might only need a thimble’s worth of soda by comparison.

“I told you it was a joke item,” he remarked, letting himself be smug. “It’s physically impossible for anyone to finish this item in one sitting, let alone in half an hour.”

“I honestly don’t know why it’s on the menu,” Haru added. “I’ve heard of many people who tried the challenge, but only one who ever… Ren?”

Ren, however, was rolling his arms in their sockets, pulling them up over his head, pushing them across his chest, stretching his back, and rolling his neck… It looked suspiciously like he was limbering up.

Akechi eyed him. “What are you doing?”

“You aren’t… actually going to try the challenge, are you?” Haru added.

Ren smiled, rolled up his sleeves, and uttered the YOLO death cry of teenagers everywhere: “Watch this.”

And then he dove in.

“Oh my god,” Akechi said after two minutes. Then: “This can’t be healthy.”

“Ren, it’s okay, you don’t need to prove anything,” Haru insisted after five.

Seven minutes: “Haru-san, do you have emergency services on speed dial?”

“I’ll set it up now.”

Ten minutes: “You want my drink? You had your own,” Akechi said to Ren’s emphatic gestures, his mouth otherwise being occupied.

Haru stood up and grabbed Ren’s empty cup. “I’ll go get you a refill. Be right back!”

Akechi watched her go, then slid his drink over to Ren. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

He slung back several gulps, said, “You’re a peach,” and resumed devouring.

Fifteen minutes: “H-he’s already more than halfway through…” Haru gulped, clutching her hands to her chest as Ren steadily buzzsawed through the mega-burg. “I’m starting to get excited…!”

Akechi gawked at her. “Why?!”

“Go, Ren, go!” she cheered, ignoring him.

Somewhere amidst the sea of grease, Ren flashed her a thumbs-up.

Twenty-five minutes: “What are you? What ARE you?!” Akechi demanded in horrified fascination.

At last, the thirty-minute mark hit. Haru looked on in awe at the mostly-empty table, which still bore a stray scrap of lettuce, the crushed remnant of half a tomato slice, and a few desperate smudges of ketchup. Her own meal was nigh untouched. So was Akechi’s. Ren, however, had conquered the Big Bang Challenge with over a minute to spare, and received his due congratulations from the waitress, but no medal, because he had already done it before. Currently he was draped on his side of the booth in between her and Akechi, head back, eyes shut, hands draped over his distended stomach with a satisfied half-smile. His tray bore a mountain of used napkins to replace the meat monstrosity that once dominated it.

“Incredible…” Haru breathed. “I’m truly impressed, Ren. I didn’t think that was possible!”

Akechi couldn’t stop shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re some kind of monster.”

Ren grinned and flashed twin V-signs at them.

“Are you all right, though?” Haru added. “Shall we stop by a pharmacy and pick up digestives for you?”

“Maybe later. Right now, I’m gonna take a nap.”

Akechi palmed his forehead. “Amamiya, we’re in the middle of a fast food restaurant, you can’t simply—aaand he’s already asleep.”

Haru giggled fondly. It was true: in the span of five seconds, Ren had gone from awake to sound asleep. She reached out to stroke his tousled hair with the backs of her fingers, but flinched back along with Akechi when she realized he was doing the same. She and he stared at one another for a second; then he used that hand to flip his hair, while she planted hers firmly in her lap.

“Excuse me, I need to use the men’s room,” Akechi said. He left accordingly.

No complaints from Haru. She watched him leave, then watched Ren snooze while she finally ate her stone cold chicken nuggets and soupy milkshake. She barely managed to finish the nuggets, but the milkshake was a loss. It probably would have been easier to simply put in a new order, but instead, she decided to take a bathroom break, too.

After washing her hands, she left the ladies’s room to see Akechi leaning on the far wall, arms folded over his chest, gaze on something in the restaurant. Haru knew before she slipped over to him and peeked past his shoulder that it would be Ren, still dozing back in the booth. Akechi glanced at her as she approached, then went right back to what he was doing.

Which begged the question: “What are you still doing back here?”

“He’s unbelievable,” Akechi replied quietly, presumably to avoid being overheard. “But not as unbelievable as this entire situation. I just watched him inhale a pile of meat approximately half his own size, and now I’m simultaneously revolted and more attracted to him than ever. What’s wrong with me?”

“Would you like an annotated list?”

He made a face. “Shut up.”

Haru smiled. She settled in next to him to watch Ren from afar, too. From this position… she thought she could sort of understand, now. Sitting right next to him as he slept, so handsome and open, was too much. You had to take in a vision like that from a reasonable distance to avoid getting blinded.

“I thought you were right, actually,” she murmured. “About it being physically impossible, I mean. But he went and did it anyway with ease. He’s truly incredible.”

Akechi sighed with what sounded distinctly like wistful longing. “Yeah.”

“…though not as incredible as Leblanc’s plumbing bill is going to be.”

He cracked up into the back of his hand. “Oh my god. That’s disgusting.”

She smiled up at him, then gazed back at Ren and breathed a longing little sigh of her own. “He did this for us, you realize. This and the ‘civet’ coffee both.”

Akechi’s mirth faded as he glanced at her. “So you noticed, too.”

She nodded. “I’ve had civet coffee before. Even taking into account the potential of a difference in the skill of the makers, there was no way that flavor was the same.”

“The jar was labeled oddly, too,” he said, nodding back. “And I’ve been a regular for months, with a seat that directly faces the shelves, and I’ve never seen civet coffee there before. He set himself up to be the butt of a joke, all to make us laugh.”

Haru cast her gaze downward. “It wasn’t just to make us laugh. He did want to cheer us up, but… what he really wanted was for us to get along, I think.”

“…You’re right.”

“Knowing he would go that far for us…” for me, she added silently, “makes me love him that much more.”

Akechi made a soft, neutral noise. “I feel the same way,” he admitted. “I’d considered asking if you would fall for someone else, but… I suppose we’re fated to clash on this matter.”

If you would fall for someone else… Her heart skipped a few beats as it stumbled into a race. She wished she didn’t know why. She cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt. “It’s Ren who will choose in the end, anyhow. Knowing him…” She paused, then bit her lip. He’d thrown quite a few signals earlier, and inexperienced though she was, she could tell them for what they were. “Knowing him, he’s probably already made his choice.”

Akechi took in a sharp, slight breath. When she looked up at him, his bangs hid his expression from view.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if so,” he said softly. “In which case…” He fell silent. Then he chuckled humorlessly and brushed back his hair. “Fortunately for me, I don’t know when to quit.”

“Akechi-kun?”

He seemed to consider something for a moment. Then he held a hand out to her. “May I offer a truce, Haru-san? Whoever wins, no hard feelings.”

She hesitated, looking up and down from his hand to his face. He gave her a wry smile.

“Speaking for myself, the other point of contention between us—the one neither of us can bring ourselves to admit to him—is our rivalry for his heart,” he murmured. “If we can each set that aside when it’s time to work, it should make what we need to do… somewhat easier. In theory.”

He was probably correct. Of course, he wasn’t aware of her growing attraction to him, and she meant to keep it that way. Still, she hesitated. She’d been thinking that Ren was attracted to both of them—he’d gone out of his way to talk about his (what was it called again?) polyamory—but it seemed Akechi thought Ren had eyes for only one of them. What if he was right? What if she was right? If Ren had feelings for both of them, was that really any better than if he chose Akechi over her?

“Oh—that’s right; I’m sorry, I forgot,” he said abruptly, pulling back. “You didn’t want me to touch you again.”

She shot him a surprised look. He… was a lot more mindful than she gave him credit for. With a tiny smile, she said, “It’s okay. This much is all right.” Tentatively, she offered her hand. “All right. No hard feelings, then.”

They shook on it. He had strong hands; a solid but not overpowering grip. Independently of anything she felt for or about him, it felt nice. The kind of hand of someone who would keep one safe. Hard to imagine it was actually the same hand that had pulled the trigger on her father, and yet that was how things were. She pulled away quickly.

“We should go wake Ren,” she said, not looking Akechi in the eye.

“…Yes. Let’s do that.”

Once Ren was up and had hit the bathroom, the three of them took the train back to Leblanc. Ren insisted on them returning, saying he had something to show them after they discussed one more thing. Sojiro was stocking up the beans he’d picked up when they arrived, and they all exchanged nods of greeting before heading up—

“Actually, you can’t come upstairs just yet,” Ren said when they reached the foot of the stairs. “Wait right here.”

Haru and Goro gave him dubious looks, but they did as he asked. He hurried up to check on things. The cardboard he’d taped over the window this morning was still in place, and the unshaded light bulb was shining hard and bright on the ceiling. He nodded to himself. Good. But… He looked around the room. It was time for him to come clean, but after that—optimistically assuming he got to have an after… He rearranged the couch cushions so they left plenty of space for the three of them, then grabbed his blanket and draped it on the floor. After a moment of thought, he lined his pillow on top. The cushions would follow once they were done with the couch. There was no way to block the light from downstairs—unless… He grabbed the spare futon and compared it to the stairwell opening. For his purposes, it’d work, but he’d need Haru and Goro up here first.

He set it to one side, then hurried back down and gestured for them to follow. When they did, he went back up and put the shade back on the hanging light. He’d left it on all day, so it should be fine. He turned and saw Haru and Goro settle onto opposite ends of the couch. Mmm… more a loveseat than a couch, now that he was really looking at the space, or lack thereof, left between them. He wondered if he could get a bigger one… Not that it would help him right now. He grabbed his desk chair, set it down in front of them, and sat.

“So. How’re you two feeling now?” Ren asked, leaning his elbows on his knees and looking up at them. “About the mission, about each other, about whatever. You know.”

“I feel much better, thank you,” Haru said, hands in her lap. “Thank you for all the effort you put in for us today.”

Pleased, he replied, “It’s the least I can do as leader.”

“‘As leader,’ hm?” Akechi said dryly, long legs crossed. “Is that really the reason why?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I severely doubt this is solely because of you taking your role seriously. You, yourself, personally, really want us to get along. Don’t think we didn’t notice you setting yourself up to look like a fool.”

“It’s true,” Haru added.

Ren laughed a rueful, you-caught-me kind of laugh. “Oops.”

“It’s not the sort of thing you normally do,” he continued. “And if I feel anything about it, it’s a desire to know why it matters to you so much.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he sat up straight. “It’s because you’re both important to me,” he said quietly. “I care about both of you a lot. And I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to choose between you two.”

Both of them stiffened in turn. Ren tried not to let his nerves show. His friends often praised his confidence, and generally he was confident, but that didn’t mean he never got anxious either.

“Ch-choose? Goodness, that’s… an awfully strong way of putting it,” Haru stammered. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean… Could you—please explain?”

Ren took a deep breath; slowly let it out. He hadn’t figured Haru would play dumb, but… okay. Being asked directly meant he could be direct in turn. “I mean I know you both have feelings for me.”

Each of them seized up. Each of them glanced away in opposite directions. “...Yes,” they admitted, more or less in unison.

He almost smiled. It figured now they would be in sync. “Well… I have what I hope is good news in light of that.” Here it was: the moment of truth. “I have feelings for both of you, too.”

Chapter Text

“...and we only have a few minutes left,” said the usual TV host, “but do either of you have anything left to say, Akechi-kun, Okumura-san?”

With his likewise usual humble, earnest, good-boy TV persona, Akechi replied, “Yes—I mentioned before that patterns show Okumura-san’s father’s death was part of a larger web of corporate deaths which initially appeared to favor Okumura Foods, but then culminated in Kunikazu Okumura’s own murder. Whether there is a conspiracy among these corporations or not, if you scrape away the superficial differences, it’s clear there is a consistent modus operandi between the deaths themselves, meaning there is a single culprit.”

“An excellent summary of today’s discussion,” the co-host agreed, nodding. “Was there something about that, Akechi-kun?”

“Yes,” he replied. “The identity of the prime suspect of these murders...”

“Yes?!” the host said eagerly, echoed by the co-host.

“…is something I can’t reveal yet.”

A groan went up among the hosts and the live audience. Haru kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t decide whether she thought it was funny or obnoxious. When it came to Akechi, it was often both.

Akechi held up his hands with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m terribly sorry! Please don’t sound so disappointed.”

“But if you say it’s something you ‘can’t reveal yet,’ does that mean you have someone in mind?” the co-host prompted.

“Hmmm...” He took on a pensive expression, then looked at her. “What do you say, Haru-san?”

Ah, yes. Her cue. She straightened her back, looked directly at the camera rather than at the multitude of eyes upon her, and recited, “I have complete confidence that Akechi-kun will find my father’s killer.” And bring him to justice, she was supposed to add, but she didn’t think she could spout that with a straight face.

“And there you have it,” Akechi said to the host without missing a beat regardless. “Please look forward to how this case develops.”

“Intriguing! If you’ve got a suspect in your sights, Akechi-kun, I’m sure he won’t get away!” the host said brightly. “Thank you both for coming in today...”

God. Were they wrapping up? They were wrapping up. Finally. Haru smiled and nodded to and thanked the host and co-host at the appropriate moments, then let Akechi lead her off the set—without touching her, thankfully. Once they were off the set and in the labyrinthine hallways of the TV station, she heaved a breath and leaned on the wall.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” she squeaked.

He laughed a little as he faced her. “I think you will. You’re already doing much better than before.”

That gave her pause. “Y-you think so?”

“You still radiate awkwardness, but now it’s challenging instead of timid. In terms of confidence, it’s a big step up.”

That… actually did make her feel a bit better. If she had to endure hell on earth, at least she could do a bit better at it. ...Well, no, it really wasn’t that bad. She’d only had to say a few things, and when she’d stumbled, Akechi had helped her out with a few prompts. The pre-memorized lines did a lot, too, as fake as they sounded to her ears. It was a wonder that anyone ate it up, but maybe the audience figured she was just tense—which, in fairness, was true.

“In any case, that’s all for today, so we should get going to our next appointment,” he continued, which was code for ‘it’s time to hit the cathedral Palace.’ “Please watch your step, Haru-san. There’s a lot of cables strewn around.”

“R-right,” she said, hurrying after him. She couldn’t tell one hallway from another, but he strode with confidence through them, right, left, left, right, straight… All she could do was make sure she didn’t lose sight of him.

They were near the building entrance/exit when her phone rang—and it was Ren’s ring tone. Heart leaping, she fumbled in her purse for it as Akechi bid goodnight to the receptionist. She slowed as she passed a door to avoid tripping over one of the cables he’d warned her about, but just before she could hit ‘accept,’ that door swung open.

It only grazed her, but that was enough to startle her into yelping and trying to skitter away. Her foot caught on a cable, and down she went—into Akechi’s arms, as he dove to catch her.

She locked up. Her phone survived the spill, thanks to its case, and Ren’s name flashed on the surface as it vibrated. She couldn’t look anywhere but there. She didn’t dare.

“Are you all right?” Akechi said from somewhere both very far away and far too close up. She wanted to push him away, but there were voices all around now, and she couldn’t move.

Then he guided her up to her feet, arms elevating her own as he stood. Once she was upright, he promptly took a large step back and knelt to pick up her phone. She smoothed out her skirt, feeling her face flame hot, and breathlessly accepted the profuse apologies of the cameraman who’d accidentally opened a door into her, and reassured the small crowd that had gathered in the blink of an eye that, yes, she was indeed all right.

“Your phone,” Akechi said then, holding it out.

She accepted it with disappointment. She’d missed the call. That said, she wouldn’t have taken it now of all times anyway, not with this abrupt crowd. “Would you mind if we stepped outside, Akechi-kun? It’s a little stuffy in here…”

“Not at all,” he said, and stepped to one side to let her go first.

She realized why a second later; once she’d passed him, he used himself to block off the crowd from her. It… was actually rather sweet. She didn’t like it. To silently repay him, she held the door open for him, and together they left the TV station and headed for a nearby bench.

The December air was refreshingly brisk, at least. It shook her back into the rest of her senses. As they sat together, Akechi leaving a foot of space between them, she checked her phone. Ren had sent a text: ‘How’d the talk show go? Let me know when you can.’ Her nerves eased as she smiled. How considerate of him… He must have assumed she was too busy to take the call.

Akechi cleared his throat then. “I’m sorry about earlier. Are you all right?”

She blinked at him. He’d asked that already, but it was clear his meaning was different: she’d told him never to touch her again, and he just had anyway. But… “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault,” she murmured. “Actually, thank you. You did the best you could in the situation.”

He actually looked surprised by that. However, his only response was a gracious, “You’re welcome.”

As tempting as it was to call Ren back, she knew she wouldn’t want to stop talking once she had him. Instead, she texted back, ‘It went fine, thank you. I understand it airs later tonight… I hope it works the way it’s supposed to. Anyway, Akechi-kun and I are headed to the Palace next. I’ll let you know how it goes too.’ Then she tucked her phone away, stood, and nodded to her companion. “All right. I’m ready to go.”

A few train rides and a short walk later, and the two of them reached the Diet Building. Visiting it for the purposes of taking on a Palace felt strange when she’d just done exactly that maybe a week ago. It was only the ninth, for heaven’s sake. Time felt so fast and so slow at the same time.

As Akechi pulled up the Meta-Navi app on his phone, she looked his way. “How is it that two Palaces can exist in the same place at the same time?” she wondered.

“The Metaverse isn’t the real world. All sorts of seemingly absurd, nonsensical things can happen there,” he replied, not looking up. “Although we need the real-world location as an anchor to guide us to the Palace and back, what’s truly important is not the location but the distorted cognition thereof. Theoretically, one could find hundreds of Palaces overlaid on the exact same spot in the real world, as long as each Palace-holder holds a different distortion of that spot.”

Haru stared back at the Diet Building, skin prickling. “That’s a little frightening.”

“Navigation initiated,” said the cool app voice. Akechi pocketed his phone as reality warped and reformed. “Welcome to the Metaverse,” he drawled as the cathedral appeared before them and their costumes flamed into existence. “This way.”

She followed him without question, which was its own strange feeling. Haru—or rather, Noir—had joined the team so late compared to everyone else, but once she was a member, it felt only natural that Joker was the leader. Following Crow around instead… It didn’t even feel unnatural after last night, and that made it only stranger still. As he brought her along the side of the cathedral and indicated where they should climb up and in, she thought back to yesterday…

“I have feelings for both of you, too,” Ren had said.

Despite the fact that he and she had just admitted to having feelings for Ren in the same language a moment before, Akechi had stammered, “Wh-when you say feelings, you mean—”

“I mean I’m in love with you both, and I want us to be in a polyamorous relationship where we’re all dating each other, or you’re both dating me, and we’re all okay with that.”

Haru’s face flamed red-hot. Akechi was left similarly speechless. When Ren decided he was done playing, he was done.

“I should have been upfront with you two sooner, and I’m sorry I wasn’t,” Ren continued. “I wanted to ease you both into the idea, in the hopes it’d make you both more open to it. I know this is selfish of me in a lot of ways. If either or both of you want to lay me out, go for it.”

“I’m not...” Haru began, then faltered.

Akechi picked up the slack by quietly asking, “Is this what Takamaki-san dragged you off over yesterday?”

“Yeah. Morgana knew and told her. They both chewed me out.”

Haru smiled a little. She had such good friends. She’d have to thank them both later for looking out for her. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Glad to hear they chewed me out?”

“Yes,” she replied, tone sharpening. “I admit, I am rather upset with you, Ren. You knew how we felt and you egged us on into competing.”

“I’m sorry. I did egg you on, but I didn’t want you to compete. I just…” He shifted in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck. “A lot of people think poorly of polyamory. I was nervous you two would get the wrong idea if I came out with it from the start.”

“I-it is rather… something I wouldn’t have considered on my own,” she admitted, settling. Being in love with, and mutually dating, two people at once… The idea intrigued her. Maybe even excited her. She glanced at Akechi and bit her lip. “For that reason, I wish you’d told us about your polyamory sooner. I’d never heard of it until you talked about it today.”

He grimaced. “I’m really sorry.”

“Now that you have, though… I admit, I’m relieved. I’d noticed you had feelings for Akechi-kun, but you were also sending me signals, and I was so anxious and confused… Knowing this makes everything make sense now.”

Subdued, he murmured, “I’m so sorry I made you feel bad, Haru.”

She almost forgave him on the spot. He looked as wretched as he sounded, and she had no doubt his apology was sincere… She didn’t want to quarrel with him, but if she let it slide, she’d be lying to herself. As far as Ren knew, she hated Akechi for killing her father. That wasn’t… really… untrue, either, even now. So: “Even if you had explained it, you know—it’s Akechi-kun and me. You must have known how this would hurt me. Why did you try to pursue both of us at once anyway?”

“The hubris of man,” Akechi murmured.

This threw Haru off. “What?”

“Basically, he thinks he’s so charming and wonderful and perfect that he can do as he pleases and still get whatever he wants in the end.”

Oh. Akechi was very mad indeed. Haru found herself impressed by how evenly, and yet with such an icy undercurrent of danger, he delivered the barb. The last time she’d heard him speak in that tone of voice, it was just before their battle on the Cruise of Pride.

But: “You’re right. I was arrogant,” Ren said. “I thought if I could smooth things over between you two and get you to get along, I wouldn’t have to choose.”

“‘He who pursues two hares will catch neither,’” Akechi quoted, chill increasing.

“I know,” Ren replied, even more subdued. “If that’s your answer, both of you, I understand.”

Akechi didn’t respond. Haru clutched her hands in her lap. Then she sighed. She really couldn’t lie to herself on this.

“Oh, Ren… I might be upset, but I love you, too,” she thus said quietly. “I just wanted you to twist in the wind a bit first.”

He chuckled. “Brutal. But I like that about you.”

She smiled. “Cute but dangerous, hmm?”

He laughed outright. “Describes you both to a T, doesn’t it?”

She giggled back. It faded soon, though. Both…

Perhaps Akechi had similar thoughts, because the ice had gone, replaced by something more tender and hesitant, by the time he asked, “Amamiya… Do you really love me?”

“Yeah.”

Simple. Direct. Forthright. Haru’s heart fluttered, even though it was directed at someone else. At Akechi, of all people.

“How much?” he insisted.

“Enough to open my heart to you.”

Oh, Haru realized. That was what today had been all about. That explained Ann’s odd behavior earlier too… She thought it was odd she’d bring up kisses and the like if she’d been angry at Ren. He must have convinced her. But more importantly… She layered her hands over her chest. Enough to open my heart to you… He might have said it to Akechi, but she knew it was just as much directed at her. And… oh, but it made her entire body feel light.

Perhaps Akechi agreed. He fell into another long silence. Eventually, he spoke: “…You want to date both of us.”

“Yeah.”

“At the same time.”

“If you’re both okay with that. Yeah.”

Akechi made a reluctant noise. “…Well, Haru-san? Would you want to share him with me?”

“Eh?” she uttered, back straightening. “I, uh… I-I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to be involved with each other if you don’t want—and I know you probably don’t,” Ren interrupted. “As long as you get along well enough to be okay with each other, that’s fine. I’ll make time for both of you. I don’t want either of you feeling neglected or like you’re losing out.”

Ren… Haru’s chest squeezed on itself. His voice was low but earnest. After today, she could completely believe he really did love them both equally. But… sharing him with Akechi…? She genuinely was unsure of the idea. Should she admit to her strange attraction to him…? It wasn’t as though she loved him too, though, just that she was occasionally drawn to him… Was that enough? Would it make sharing Ren better or worse? She suspected the only way to know for sure was to give it a try. But…

“If that’s what would make you happy, Ren,” she said slowly. Reluctantly.

“What would make you happy, though?” he insisted.

Oh, he really was sweet. He could have left it at that and still he asked. Even if he had been selfish and thoughtless, he really did care, didn’t he? She didn’t need to tiptoe around him; he’d always encouraged her to speak her mind.

So: “I don’t want to have to share you,” she admitted. “Maybe if it were someone else. But not with him.”

Silence. After a beat of it, Akechi cleared his throat delicately.

“I agree,” he said. “I don’t want to share you, period. I’m the jealous type when it comes to romance. When I love someone, I want them all to myself.”

“I see,” Ren replied. He sounded disappointed—unhappy. Then he sighed. “Thank you both for being honest. I’m sorry I wasn’t the same sooner. To tell you the truth, deep down, I figured you’d both say that. It’s a good thing Ann talked some sense into me. I’ll have to apologize to Morgana for not listening to him sooner, too.” He paused. “There is… one thing he had me keep in mind. Basically, if neither of you were willing to share and I couldn’t convince you… who I’d pick, if I could be with only one of you. So… I didn’t want to choose, but I can, and I will. If that’s what you both want.”

Haru’s heart seized up. It had been a relief to learn that he was in love with both of them, but if it came down to who he loved the most… it would be the one he’d risked his life to save, wouldn’t it? Like she’d told Akechi earlier, Ren had probably already made up his mind.

It was so unfair. She bowed her head, teeth clenching. Looking back, the day they’d defeated Shadow Shido, when Ren had told her he wanted to talk to her privately the next day, he’d probably been about to confess his feelings. Then Akechi had shown up and upended everything.

He really was an awful person. He took everything she loved from her just by existing.

“If you’ve already made up your mind,” she said slowly, stiffly, “I think it would be best for you to tell us and get it over with.”

“Mm.” A beat. “Akechi?”

Akechi made a soft, reluctant sound. “Haru-san is right. If you had just one of us in mind, you should have said so from the start.”

Ren audibly winced. “Ann said that, too. I thought I was a good read of people, but… No, I did have the right read. I was just selfish and ignored it. I hope you two can forgive me.”

“It’s… all right,” Haru murmured. “I understand why you would want to at least try. It’s not like you to give up, and I know you didn’t mean any harm. So, I forgive you.”

“I’ll forgive you if you pick me,” Akechi said. Classic Akechi.

Ren must have agreed, if with a wildly different take, because he laughed a little. “Okay. Then…” He paused, then hunched over and clasped his hands. His thumbs twiddled for a moment. Haru could see it now; he really was nervous. After a moment, he softly said, “I had a lot of fun today. I really liked hanging out and talking to both of you. And I want you both to know that, regardless of who I pick, I still care about each of you a lot.

“So… if I don’t pick you, it’s not a slight, and it’s not because I don’t like you. We can still be friends, and you can come to me and talk to me about whatever you want, whenever you want.

“And… if I do pick you, I want you to know I’ll respect your wishes and be monogamous with you. You don’t need to worry about me seeing anyone behind your back, especially not the other one. You both matter too much to me for me to do that to either of you.”

He took a deep breath; he bowed his head. Haru tensed. At last, he looked up. “So—”

“Wait,” Akechi interrupted sharply. She and Ren blinked at him. He looked awkward for a second, then visibly steeled himself. “On second thought, you shouldn’t say. Not right now, at least.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

He gestured at her and himself. “Whether you change our Palace assignments or not, we still have to work together in the real world. What do you think will happen to our ability to cooperate if you break one of our hearts in favor of the other?”

Ren was silent.

“…He makes a good point,” Haru conceded. “I think… it would be much easier to handle rejection if it’s after we no longer have to publicly make nice with our rival.”

“…Okay,” Ren said. He sounded a little relieved. “If that’s how you both feel, then we’ll put a bookmark in this and return to it after the mission’s done.” He paused. “Can I ask something of you two, though? Well, two somethings.”

“Yes?”

“What is it?”

“First: do you two want to be reassigned after all? Haru, you’d go with Morgana, and Akechi, you’ll get Yusuke.”

It would be a lot less stressful to fight if she could do so at Morgana’s side. She’d started out as a phantom thief by partnering with him, after all. But… She bit her lip and glanced at Akechi, who met her gaze.

“…No, Mona-chan and Yusuke-kun have already started their Palace dive,” she decided, looking back at Ren. “We don’t have the luxury of time. If Akechi-kun and I can cooperate in the real world, we can cooperate in the Metaverse, too.”

Ren smiled and sat up straight. “Oh?”

“It is true that working together in both the real world and the Metaverse will make Palace coordination much easier,” Akechi said. “Even if you had ulterior motives, I do think your reasoning there was sound. So… if she’s willing to put up with me, I can put up with her.”

“How kind of you,” Haru said dryly.

“We have a TV interview scheduled for tomorrow,” Akechi continued. “But after that… Haru-san, if you’re free, let’s get started on Ooe’s Palace.”

She hesitated. Then she nodded to him. “Yes. Let’s do that.”

“This way,” Crow murmured, gesturing for Noir to follow. “We’ll get a good look from the upstairs pews.”

She nodded, breaking out of her reminiscing. The two of them snuck around a few corners, dashing from shadow to shadow as they avoided Shadows, before slipping in through a door.

Noir nearly gasped. The pews were filled with cognitions. Crow ignored them, though, so she kept her head down and crept along after him. When he came to a halt near the balcony, she scooted in behind him, and together they peeked over the rail.

‘Pope’ Shadow Ooe stood at the pulpit below, railing fire and brimstone at the rows and rows of cognitions before him. Behind him rose a massive stained-glass portrait of ‘God,’ or rather his cognition of Shido. It gave Noir the creeps. She glanced at Crow, but he kept his focus on the target, so she did the same. His lecture was about a lack of faith weakening ‘God,’ and how if people don’t restore their faith, then his divine punishment will wane and criminals will increase, disturbing the good people of the country. She looked around to see how the cognitions reacted to it. They all nodded in unison, which was made creepier by how they all had the same face. It was like watching a poorly designed anime.

“He has some nerve,” Noir whispered to Crow as Shadow Ooe’s lecture wound down. “I remember him from the cruise. He requested the psychotic breakdown of an innocent subway driver so he could increase his influence when the Minister of Transportation took the blame, didn’t he?”

“He did,” Crow whispered back, tone and expression neutral. “From his perspective, it was something akin to a sacrifice to God to keep the masses on the right track, i.e. to grant himself more political power so he can better control the public. It’s amazing what excuses people will tell themselves to convince themselves they’re in the right, isn’t it?”

Noir side-eyed him. She genuinely couldn’t tell if he was that self-unaware or if he was poking fun at himself. She decided to let it go. “Yes.”

“The crowds will file out in a moment, once his lecture’s done,” he added. “We’ll take that opportunity to move with them, then sneak further inside.”

“Won’t the cognitions notice and raise the alarm?”

“No. Ooe-san thinks the general public is too stupid to think for themselves, so the cognitions don’t react to anything but his direct orders or the orders of his subordinates.” He tensed as Shadow Ooe bellowed a loud amen, which the crowds echoed. “That’s our cue. Let’s go.”

The cognitions stood, and so did they. After a few minutes, Crow shot her a glance and jerked his head towards an upcoming cordoned-off hallway; Noir hurried her pace to follow, and together they slipped away from the rest to duck under the cordon and sneak down the alternate path. Once they’d turned a corner and were out of sight, they stood up straight. Crow stopped and peered down the way forward, folding his arms and settling a hand on his chin.

“Is something the matter?” Noir asked, keeping her voice low.

“Something seems off… There may have been changes in the Palace since I was last here,” he murmured back, sounding worried. “It makes sense. Shido’s change of heart has already had a heavy influence on the Shadows of his inner circle; naturally it would influence the Palaces themselves, too. I hope the information I’ve provided is still good.”

Noir looked around. Nothing seemed strange to her, but then, this was her first time here. It looked like… well, an opulent Catholic cathedral, of the type built by clergymen with more money than faith. Ornate mirrors, fancy chairs and couches, lush potted plants, and marble busts lined the wall. “What seems off?”

“Let me think…” After a moment of studious silence, Crow looked over himself, then her, then the hallway going forward again. “Get ready to hide,” he warned her, just before he summoned his light saber and chucked it down the hallway, whirling impressively.

The effect was immediate: when it passed the marble busts, their jaws unhinged for a camera lens, and the mirrors flashed red and sounded an alarm. Crow and Noir shot each other a look as footsteps rumbled rapidly close, and they each dove for opposite sides of the hallway, Noir to seek shelter beneath a couch, Crow behind a massive potted plant. Seconds later, Shadows in the form of inquisitors poured into the hallway and stormed up and down it. Noir held her breath every time they passed by, but thankfully, neither she nor Crow were found.

Eventually, most of them dispersed, but a few remained. One hit a button on the largest mirror, located about halfway down the hallway.

“All clear, Your Holiness,” the inquisitor said, facing it. “We scoured the hallway and there was nothing unusual. It seems it was a false alarm.”

“No, you must not let down your guard,” the voice of Shadow Ooe replied sharply. “If the Phantom Thieves were capable of defiling the heart of Our Lord, then they’re sure to come after me as His most faithful representative. The slightest abnormality must not be overlooked! Keep guards posted in that area until you find an explanation for the alarm!”

“Yes, Your Holiness!”

And that was that. Noir’s heart pounded. Were they stuck here? How long would they have to hide? What happened if the Shadows spotted them? In previous Palaces, the alarm only went up a small amount any time they’d been spotted, but just this one test yanked it up to high alert. She bit her lip and watched the patrols as they passed for an opening.

When two passed by, and another two further downwards were facing away, Crow zipped from his cover over to hers. It was tight with both of them in the shadows of the couch, but they managed to remain out of sight. Using gestures and significant looks, he managed to convey the plan: if security was this tight, then they had to absolutely stick to zipping between hiding spots and avoiding combat. Noir nodded her understanding, then squeezed out to squish against him further. He shot her a surprised look, but… she could only give him a steady frown. They were probably both remembering the same thing:

Akechi smiled slightly, tension seeping out of his shoulders. Then he looked back at Ren. “So what’s the other thing you had to say, Amamiya?”

“Before I tell you, there’s something I want to show you two,” he replied. “Something really important to me. Do you mind?”

He shook his head, and so did Haru. Ren smiled, then for reasons inexplicable at the time covered up the stairway with his spare futon. “Lie down on the blanket for me,” he said as he did so. “Grab the couch cushions for pillows if you want.”

Haru had stared at the blanket on the floor. She’d wondered about it when she walked in earlier, but had quickly forgotten about it in favor of the conversation. She shot Akechi a dubious look, but… if it was that important to Ren, then she did want to see. She did as he asked, and a moment later, so did Akechi. Perhaps it was only natural—they each took up a spot on either side of the pillow Ren had left at the upper center of the blanket, allowing it to form a buffer space between them.

Still, it was worth it to see how happy Ren looked when he returned. “Thanks. Now I need you both to close your eyes and keep them closed until I say. Is that okay?”

Haru nodded and shut her eyes. Goro said nothing, so he’d probably done the same. Haru heard the tup-tup-tup of Ren’s footsteps over to his bookshelves; a moment later, soft, soothing music began to play, presumably from his phone. Overhead, she heard the click of the light turning off. Then she felt Ren settle down in between her and Akechi.

“Okay,” he said with relish, “you can open your eyes now.”

Haru did so, and uttered a soft, “Oh!” In the murk of Ren’s bedroom, carefully strewn across his ceiling, blazed pale green stars, planets, satellites, and comets.

“How pretty!” she breathed. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“I have,” Akechi said. “Amamiya, was the something important you had to show us common, ordinary glow-in-the-dark stickers?”

“Yup.”

He breathed a faint sound of exasperated amusement. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Be nice,” Haru chided him. “Ren’s trying to do something nice for us.”

“It’s fine,” Ren reassured her. “It is a weird thing to get hype about, huh? But they make me happy.”

“Happy?” she echoed, while Akechi made a vague sound of curiosity.

“Mhm. I’ve always liked the stars. When I was a kid, I used to cover the walls and ceiling over my bed with these things,” he explained, looking her way. She could just barely see his outline in the darkness. “At first I’d just stick them wherever, but when I got older, I tried to imitate the season’s night sky so I could stargaze, even when I was inside. I loved it.” He turned his gaze back up. “These days, looking at them brings back all the things I felt back then. I’ve wanted to share that with you two for a while now.”

“Oh, Ren…” Her affection for him shone even in the December dark. “Did you set up any constellations this time?”

“Only a couple,” he replied, pointing up. His other hand, she could feel creeping towards and brushing up to hers… “I only had so many to work with, but up there is Cassiopeia, and over there is Orion. Other than that, I just put them wherever.”

“I can see why you like them,” she murmured, her fingertips slipping out over his own. “They add a… a sense of wonder to the room.”

Akechi made a quiet tsk noise, but didn’t otherwise comment.

“I take it you don’t agree, Akechi,” Ren observed, sounding amused despite it, as he set his pointing hand down—perhaps right next to Akechi’s hand, like he had for Haru.

“If you want to stargaze, wouldn’t it be better to look at real stars?”

He laughed. “In the heart of Tokyo? I’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of Venus.”

Haru, less amused, said, “Do you have to be such a spoilsport, Akechi-kun?”

For his part, Akechi sighed, a little frustrated, a little melancholy. She just didn’t understand how he felt. Neither of them did. “I just don’t understand why he’s so enamored with fakes.”

In all seeming sincerity, Ren had said, “What’s wrong with fakes?”

And that had startled him. “What?”

“Does Van Gogh’s Starry Night have less value because it’s not a real starry night?”

“That’s a masterpiece painting, not a bunch of stickers.”

“But they’re still ‘fake’ stars, aren’t they?”

“…I suppose so.”

Ren, sounding somewhere between amused and affectionate, said, “This is just my opinion, but I don’t think everything has to be exactly what it looks like to have value. The real stars are beautiful, and I like them too, but they’re so far away. Sometimes, I want something I can reach out and touch with my own two hands.”

Akechi didn’t speak for a moment. I want something I can reach out and touch with my own two hands… Damn it. How did Ren do this every single time? Every time he thought he was alone, Ren reached deep into his heart and whispered the words of his soul. He did it so easily, like it was a trivial matter. It made his heart ache. Someone who knew and understood him so well insisted he loved him… and then turned around and said he also loved another. Was this a blessing or a curse?

For the time being, he turned his gaze upwards. The glow-in-the-dark galaxy burned back at him. I want something I can touch… “I see. When you put it like that, I understand what you mean.” He let his melancholy creep into his voice. “Maybe that’s the difference between you and me. I’ve always striven for things too far beyond my reach. The stars aren’t something anyone can claim, no matter how hard they stretch.”

A hand—Ren’s hand—rested feather-light over his. “Well, there are stars right here.”

Akechi flinched and tensed; a moment later, he managed to relax, though his heart continued to assail the bars of his ribcage. “That’s… true.” Tentatively, he slipped his hand around to accept Ren’s.

He squeezed back gently, sending through his affection. “You just need to learn to appreciate them for what they are.”

“That’s good advice,” Haru remarked softly, saving Akechi the need to think of a coherent reply. “The bigger the world you live in, the more it can threaten to overwhelm you. There’s something comforting, I think, about having something you can wrap your arms around and hold tight. Isn’t there?”

“Yeah.” Ren had brushed his thumbs on each of their hands. “It’s so hard, losing everything important to you. You don’t know what to do or where to go. You just feel so… lost. So it’s comforting to have something you can keep safe, even if it’s just something small.”

Akechi looked over at him. How… how did he always know? It was like listening to his own thoughts in Ren’s low, rich voice.

Haru likewise gazed at Ren with widened eyes. Though she couldn’t say it was everything, her father had been such an important, huge part of her life. What he said just now… it was exactly how she’d felt after his death.

Akechi murmured, “Are you talking about your arrest? ‘Everything’ seems like an exaggeration.”

He sighed a little. “I told you guys earlier about some of it. How I got dropped socially by, uh. Everyone I knew.”

“Right.”

“That also meant I lost my dream. I was…” He swallowed hard. “I was on the gymnastics club at my old school. I was really good at it. Good enough that my coach thought I could make it as an Olympic representative. That was my dream, too. To become an Olympic athlete and win a gold medal.”

“Really?! That’s incredible!” Haru breathed. “Though now that you say it, it’s easy to believe. We’ve seen how you move in Palaces.”

Ren laughed a little. “Thanks. But, well.” What traces of good humor there were in his tone faded. “Japan doesn’t want someone with a criminal record to represent the country.”

“Amamiya…” Akechi murmured.

“So. There’s that dream busted.” He forced a laugh. “But whatever, right? It’s not the end of the world. Kamoshida taught me the dangers of getting hung up on a dumb medal.”

Akechi said nothing. Neither did Haru.

“…Anyway. Sorry to bring the mood down. I admit it still stings when I think about it, but it really could be worse.” He squeezed their hands. “As much as the fame and glory would’ve been great, I’ve got a pretty good gig right now. I got a roof over my head, a guardian who gives a shit about me, and a crew of great friends who’ve got my back. I wouldn’t trade all this for anything, even that old dream back. To put it another way, it’s better to have the stars I can reach out and touch.”

“Oh, Ren…” Haru murmured.

Swallowing hard, Akechi asked, “We really mean that much to you?”

“Mhm.” Affection entered Ren’s tone. “There’s nothing like that moment where you can look around you and go, ‘Yeah… This is where I belong.’”

Akechi’s breath caught, a soft, sharp sound Ren might have missed if they weren’t next to each other. He rolled his head over.

“What’s up?”

“N-nothing. I, uh…” He hesitated. How could he explain how much that meant to him? He couldn’t. “I was just, ah, thinking… this is nice. What we’re doing,” he settled for instead.

“…It is nice,” Haru murmured, likewise touched in a way she couldn’t put into words. “Thank you for sharing this with us, Ren.”

“Y-yes.” Akechi paused, then whispered, “Thank you, too.”

Ren gave both their hands another gentle squeeze. “Of course.”

The three of them drifted into a comfortable silence as they continued to stargaze.

All too soon, though, the gentle, mystical mood music came to an end, and Ren sat up to turn the lights back on. Haru and Akechi sat up with him, shielding their eyes.

“Did you guys have a good time today?” Ren wondered quietly.

Haru favored him with a smile. “I did. Thank you. I had a lovely day today.”

Akechi nodded. “Yes. That was actually quite relaxing, just now.”

He smiled, affection in his dark eyes. “Glad to hear it. Then, with that in mind, that brings me to the second thing I wanted to ask from you two.” He looked them both in the eye, one at a time. “If you’re both still willing to work together, and you both want me to hold off on my answer… can you each give it some thought on your end, too?”

“Eh?” Haru uttered.

“About whether you’d be willing to be a polycule.”

“A what?” Akechi echoed.

“You know. A couple, but with three people. Or more, but it’s three in our case, so, yeah. A poly molecule.”

Haru giggled. That was so cute. “Did you come up with that?”

He grinned. “As much as I’d love to take credit, no.”

Akechi didn’t smile, though. “In other words… in exchange for waiting, you want us to reconsider if we’re willing to share you with each other?”

“Yeah.” Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s fine if you decide, at the end of the day, you still aren’t okay with it. Just… you know. I’d be happy if you thought it over seriously. Please.”

Haru and Akechi shared a glance.

Crow settled, then nodded and held an arm out to her. She held onto it. Whatever she’d said to him previously, they had to get through here together, or they weren’t getting through at all. That was true regardless of how they felt about Ren, or each other.

It took a lot of time and careful watching, but the two of them managed to slip from hiding spot to hiding spot, without hopping onto a Shadow’s back or running into them or crossing their view, and without triggering any further alarms, until they’d made it to the other end. The clocktower bell chimed twice as they worked their way across, freezing them momentarily in place with irrational fear, but since they were hiding, it only made the task take an extra amount of time. Crow guided them into a stairwell, and they both hurried downstairs. When they reached the bottom floor, there was a safe room where the distortion was weak to the left, and they took a breather there.

“Goodness, but that was nerve-wracking,” Noir remarked, hand on her chest as she seated herself at the table within.

“Agreed,” Crow replied, taking a seat opposite her. “This will be more difficult than I’d anticipated. I hope the others are managing well… Joker’s team is essaying the coliseum today, aren’t they?”

“Oracle is with them, so I believe they’ll be all right, but...”

They both fell into silence. Mona and Queen’s teams had also started their dives yesterday, Queen and Panther after the study session; late last night, in the Phantom Thief chatroom, Mona, Fox, and Oracle had complained of way more traps than Crow had warned, but Queen and Panther had said it’d gone fairly smoothly for them.

“They should probably be all right,” Crow said, somewhat reluctant. “If I had to rank Shido’s inner circle in terms of how much they centralize him in their way of thinking, Ooe would be at the top, followed closely by the IT president, with the former noble significantly further down and the TV president at the bottom. The noble is mostly motivated by fear of Shido, and the TV president probably would be fine with anyone as long as he had a piece of the pie, so to speak. Their Palaces will probably see significantly less in the way of cognitive changes compared to this one and the ninja mansion… theoretically.”

“I suppose we’ll see when we all get home tonight. Which I’m sure we will,” Noir said bracingly. “Things might be different from what you thought, but you still worked out the traps, and you still know the way, and Joker and Skull won’t get caught so easily, either, especially with Oracle on their side.”

“True,” Crow replied, relaxing. “We’re best off keeping our concern to ourselves.” He stood up. “We should get going again soon. I’m most concerned about the chiming of the bell. It’s just as potent, and its frequency has increased, too, as far as I can tell. Once we hear it, we’ll make our move. We absolutely must not get caught out in the open when it rings.”

“Right,” Noir said, nodding as she stood with him.

The bell chimed a minute or two later. Inside the safe room, it didn’t have its paralytic effect, and when the echoes died, they snuck out and swiftly made their way around the carpeted hallways around to the ground-floor pulpit where Shadow Ooe had been preaching earlier. The entrance to the central tower was behind the stained glass relief of Shido, and Crow wanted to check if he’d be able to open it still, or if the Palace saw him as an intruder now and would stay locked.

In short, it stayed locked. The two of them carefully searched the bottom floor and other towers for keys, as Crow recalled that it required four to open if Ooe’s cognition didn’t give one access to the clocktower. The search was fruitless, and while they did manage to re-map the Palace with its updated security, if they couldn’t access the central tower, it meant little.

Eventually, they took another rest in a different safe room. They both settled near a window, Noir perched up on the sill, Crow leaning his back on the perpendicular wall.

“Now what?” she asked. “Do you think Ooe-san confiscated the keys?”

“It’s possible,” he said, armed folded, tapping one foot. “If he’s worried about the Phantom Thieves targeting him, he might not allow anyone but himself to ascend the central tower. In a way, it’s good, since this confirms that his Treasure is indeed up there, but…” He shook his head.

“Well, where else would they be? We’ve searched the rest of the cathedral.”

“No, there’s still the dungeons left.”

Noir gawked. “The what?”

“There are dungeons in the cellar. For torturing and executing sinners, you see,” he replied. “But I expect Ooe would keep his Treasure somewhere tall and lofty, where he can look down on others. His quarters are in the central tower, too…” Crow tapped a finger on his arm and gazed out the window. There wasn’t really anything to see, save when the distortion shifted enough every so often to give them a glimpse of the real world. “How to get up there… We might not be able to avoid a confrontation with Shadow Ooe.”

“That’s a problem,” Noir murmured, lowering her gaze. “He’ll know you’re with the Phantom Thieves if we do that.”

His lips pursed. “Not necessarily,” he said slowly. “I might have an idea… but we’ll need to run it by Joker first. I don’t think I can rightfully make this call on my own.”

“What is it?”

He told her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she listened, but in the end, she nodded.

“I see. Knowing you, that could work,” she replied. “It sounds risky, but…”

He nodded back. “It has the highest chance of success, yes. In my opinion.”

“It’s better than searching for keys that might not exist anymore, at least.”

He chuckled faintly. “Then let’s withdraw for today and discuss it with the others.”

That should have been that. However, on the way back, the doorway to the first tower they’d climbed was blocked off. Crow gave it a troubled look, then gestured for her to follow him between the pews and headed for the cathedral’s front doors. Noir had a bad feeling about it, so she gave him a bit of space, just in case.

Her instincts were right. Crow got to halfway through the room when the floor opened up beneath him. He half-twisted to look at her, and she caught a glimpse of his shocked expression before he fell.

“Crow!!” she called, diving forward with hand outstretched. She managed to catch him just in time, but doing so nearly got her yanked in too. Noir grit her teeth as she clutched the edge of the floor trap and held onto the man she hated most in the world.

“Let go of me!” he urged her. “I can talk my way out of it, but if you’re caught—”

“Absolutely not!” she snapped back. “I can’t have you leaving me behind!” Besides, she didn’t add, between this and the idea he’d described to her, she wasn’t totally convinced he was on the level. That this wasn’t a set-up meant for him to talk to Shadow Ooe alone. At the same time, if he was sincere…

“Ah, so at last we capture the rats that have been scurrying about the feet of my flock,” Shadow Ooe’s warped voice sounded at her back.

Noir chanced a glance over her shoulder in time to see the stained glass wall open up at the center. The ‘Pope’ strode out and brought several inquisitors with him. The Shadows stormed forward to form a circle around them, lances thrust forward with her at the center of the ring of blades. Shadow Ooe halted a foot away from her back. He smirked down at her as she grit her teeth, arm starting to ache. Crow was trying to latch onto the wall of the trap with his other hand, but she didn’t know if it would make a difference soon enough.

“So you must be one of the so-called Phantom Thieves,” he intoned. “Is that not so, vile rat?”

“Nngh…!”

He laughed coldly. “Well, there is no need for you to say it. Welcome to my cathedral, thief of hearts. However, the one undergoing a drastic change shall be you.” A fanatic gleam lit his golden eyes. “I shall enjoy having you torn apart piece by piece as you beg to tell me how to restore Our Lord’s heart to its proper glory.” He lifted an arm, sneering around at the inquisitors. “Pitch them in.”

Before any of the inquisitors could act, though, dark flame erupted from within the pit trap, blanketing Crow in shadows. The pale blue outline of Loki materialized above him, above all of them, and even Shadow Ooe retreated a few steps at the sight.

“Were you always this hasty, Ooe? How troublesome,” Crow intoned from below. With a distinct chunk of a blade sinking between stones, he climbed out with it as a stepping stone, adorned in his striped Loki costume. Noir rose to her feet with him, helping him the last step of the way, then nervously settled in at his side.

He flexed his left hand, and his sword, now a serrated rust-red saber, reappeared within his grasp. While he didn’t quite touch her, the way his arm and sword framed her back made it crystal clear that she was with him. Crow tilted his chin up, expression hidden behind his face-concealing mask-helm, but one didn’t need to see his face. His presence, his body language, his Persona, all radiated power and menace.

“I can’t have you dismembering my protégée,” he concluded.

Oh, dear. So much for running the plan by the team first.

Chapter Text

“The Black Mask!” Shadow Ooe gasped, turning pale.

The inquisitors surrounding them let out a collective gasp, then withdrew their weapons and dropped to their knees. Noir shot them a quick glance, but straightened after; Crow had ignored them entirely in favor of fixing a stare on Shadow Ooe.

For all his shock, he recovered quickly, at least—and he didn’t simper or shrink away, either. Instead, the ‘Pope’ narrowed his golden eyes, stance deferential without lowering his guard. “I of course bid a grand welcome to the arbiter of God’s justice,” he said flatly. He turned a glare to Noir. “Your protégée, was it? I only wish I had known to expect your visit to my fair Palace. An RSVP goes a long way towards preparing a proper reception.”

Crow chuckled coldly. “Are you still upset I wouldn’t bow to you? How unbecoming of a servant of God.” He spread his other arm. “We both serve Him first and foremost, do we not?”

“Your dubious ‘service’ has led heathens to steal His heart!” Shadow Ooe snapped.

He bowed his head. “Yes… That was most… unfortunate. I assure you, it did not happen as it did because I desired it.”

Noir glanced at him sidelong, but said nothing.

“But that is why I have brought this one with me today,” he continued smoothly. “Surely, as the one who has more faith in Him than any other, you understand the significance of this, Ooe-san?”

Shadow Ooe peered at him for a long moment. Then, with a twist of his hand, he bid the inquisitors rise. Noir thought at first they might attack and tensed as she swayed away from them, but they remained at attention.

“Your protégée seems rather timid,” Shadow Ooe observed, scowling.

Crow chuckled again, this time with dark humor. “She’s merely attempting to behave herself for my sake. Mock her at your peril, for she’s even more ruthless and bloodthirsty than I am.”

“Hmm… Is that so?” This time, the Shadow ‘Pope’ peered at her with interest. “So this is what He meant when He said the smitings would continue… Still, I find your claims hard to believe. Not from such a slip of a girl. Have her show a demonstration.”

Crow leveled a long stare at him. Then he dismissed his sword to trail his claws along Noir’s back and lift her hand. Her temper, already simmering, rose to a boil as he leaned in. “Ooe-san seems to think he can speak of you like a lapdog who performs tricks at command. What do you think of that?”

In a flash of intuition, Noir understood he’d touched her on purpose to pour fertilizer on her fury and make whatever she said or did next that much more convincing. That didn’t make her any less angry, and she used it aggressively as she slapped his hand off and gripped the edge of her hat, lancing Shadow Ooe with a murderous glare.

“Persona!!” she called. Milady responded to her summons, and twirled elegantly in midair overhead as her guns emerged from her full hoop skirts and fired in a rapid circle at the inquisitors. As they fell, some dead, some merely wounded, she strode forward a step, summoned her axe into hand, and swung it around and up. “I’m afraid I’m less of one to perform tricks and more one who teaches them to others, sir,” she said coldly. Her axe rose level to the Shadow’s neck. “How about we start with ‘roll over’ and ‘play dead’?”

Shadow Ooe rocked back in intimidated alarm. Oh, that was so satisfying. Her glare became a malicious smile when Crow burst out cackling. She could understand why he’d wanted acknowledgment so badly; receiving it, especially for something so unlike her, made her tingle.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” he crooned. “Truly she is worthy of meting out divine justice!”

“I can see where she’s been trained by you,” Shadow Ooe replied.

That dampened Noir’s mood. Really? she wondered, dismayed.

“I see, so you’ve come seeking a new master…” he continued. “Revenge against the Phantom Thieves?”

“Yes,” Crow replied.

He nodded, smiling slightly. “I thought that might be it. It doesn’t do to allow heathens to have their way.” Shadow Ooe shot her another glance. “I’d been worried. For a while, I’d thought you were serious when you left.”

“Oh, I was,” Crow replied. “Had I stayed, a rift would have grown between you and the others, each of you demanding more use of my powers and growing ever more paranoid that the others might turn me against them. One of my powers can serve only one god.” He stretched a hand out at Shadow Ooe. “Of everyone’s Palaces, yours was the only one that snared me. As I’d suspected, the only one worthy to succeed Him is you.”

The ‘Pope’ chuckled, then roared into a full belly laugh. “I see! I see! How sagacious of you, Black Mask. Then I’ll await your call in the real world on pins and needles.”

Crow bowed. “Please do. Then, if you will excuse us…”

He turned, tattered cape snapping in his wake, and stepped around the floor trap. Noir followed him carefully. They left through the front gates with no trouble, and a moment later, reality bubbled, twisted, and reasserted itself. When she looked over her shoulder, the Diet Building was there again.

“Thank you for playing along,” Akechi said then.

She frowned at him. “I didn’t exactly have a choice. Shouldn’t you have known that trap was there?”

His expression clouded. “It wasn’t before. But you’re right; I should have been more cautious. I’m sorry.”

Oh, she really couldn’t bring herself to like him. Was he apologizing sincerely, or was he doing it to keep her from prodding further and finding something he didn’t want her to realize? She honestly couldn’t tell.

“We’d best tell Ren right away,” she said instead. “We were already considering that move, so… hopefully we’ll be able to make this work for us.”

“Right. For now, let’s move away from here before we’re noticed.”

No argument there. Haru left with Akechi and crossed several streets until they found a bench. As they sat, he stumbled and nearly fell. This alarmed her at first, but he brushed it off as a dizzy spell. Haru decided not to push. As he recovered, fingers rubbing his temples, Haru called Ren to give him the report. Ren answered, thankfully, and after he confirmed he and Ryuji had done just fine with Futaba in the coliseum, Haru told him the basics of what had happened. They agreed to discuss the details with everyone in the chatroom later. Then they both hung up.

Haru’s gaze lingered on her phone for a moment. Then she looked over at Akechi. His hands were folded in his lap, and his head rested on the back of the bench. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.” He breathed out a faint sigh that rose whitely in the cold air. Then he looked at her. “Which reminds me, I meant to ask earlier: how are you feeling, Haru-san?”

“A little jittery, but I’ll be okay.”

“Good.” A pause. “Also…” He looked away, resting a hand on his chin. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Oh,” she uttered, a little taken aback. “W-well, I couldn’t very well let you fall…”

He slid her a small smile. “You really are a good person.”

She pursed her lips. “If our situations had been reversed, would you have let me fall?”

“No. Amamiya would be furious with me if I did that.”

“…Well, I suppose I appreciate your honesty.”

He looked away. “…not to mention, I have a responsibility for your safety. You may not believe me, but I take it seriously.”

“You pulled a Persona on me the other day,” she pointed out. When he said nothing, she bit her lip and sighed. “No, that’s not fair of me. I drew first.”

“Yes you did,” he replied, tone chill.

She frowned at his back, then glowered at the street. As much as she wanted Ren to be happy, she really didn’t think she would ever want to be in even a tangential relationship with Akechi. (Even if she did like it when he called her aggression wonderful—but no, no. She shushed that thought. It wasn’t one she ought to have.)

“I should get going. I need to go home and study,” she announced, tucking her phone into her purse. “I’m sure you have things you need to do, too.”

“I do.”

She stood up and looked around. There was a park at their back, and she opted to cut through it rather than move towards the sidewalk. Even in the middle of winter, the sight of nature would calm her down. Unfortunately, Akechi for some reason decided to follow her.

“What are you doing?” she muttered.

“It’s well past dark. I’m walking you to the train station.”

Irritation bubbled up inside her, but she let that one go. It would look bad for both of them if she were assaulted late at night and her stupid ‘detective prince’ weren’t there to gallop to her rescue.

So for a moment, they walked in silence, side by side. The park was empty, though Haru wondered if it only seemed that way and if she’d have someone tailing her if she’d been alone. Some parts of being a woman were so frustrating… though she infinitely preferred it to the alternative.

Presently, Akechi cleared his throat. “You did well in there,” he remarked, keeping his gaze ahead. “Despite our many differences, it was easy to work with you. Thank you for that.”

“Oh—you’re welcome,” she replied, mostly because she was too surprised to say anything else.

“I’m not used to working with teammates, as you know,” he continued, which was even more of a surprise. “It was one thing the last time, since I was just pretending. But now that we’re cooperating for real, I wasn’t sure how it would go—especially since I was to lead, rather than follow.”

“I see.” And she could have left it at that, but honest curiosity made her add, “Were you nervous?”

“A bit.” He paused. “Perhaps… quite a bit.”

She blinked at his admission; then, despite everything, she smiled. “Really?”

He coughed into one hand. “Er, yes. Really.”

She giggled. Looking back, Akechi had a willingness to play the fool if it would make him seem affable and harmless, like the time he deliberately ate a spicy takoyaki, but that didn’t include awkward admissions. At least, she didn’t think so. He looked relieved to hear her laugh, too. It seemed he really was trying. That made it a little easier for her, too.

Thus she asked: “What is it about Ren that you like?”

Face flushing, which was striking in the silvery moonlight, he stammered, “Wh-why do you ask that all of a sudden?”

“I want to hear your sincere feelings,” she replied. “I have difficulty reading you most of the time, but right now you strike me as honest, for once.” She lowered her gaze. “…And if he chooses you… I hope you understand the desire to know he’s choosing someone who’ll treat him right.”

“Haru-san…” Their footsteps echoed on the park walkway. He swept his hair back with his free hand, cheeks still dark. “There are a lot of reasons. If I tried to convey every aspect of everything I felt for him, good or bad, we’d be here all night. But if I were to simplify it… it would be the strength of his conviction. I sensed that about him from the moment we met, and it drew me to him. He seems easygoing enough to go along with anything, but underneath is a core of steel. He has—character. I suppose that’s an odd thing to say about a criminal, but he truly defines the ideal of a gentleman thief.”

“That does seem odd, coming from you. It doesn’t seem like something you would like about someone, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

“It’s fine. I understand why you’d think that. Then perhaps it’s less that he has character and more what his character is. He has this aura of… being genuinely interested in what you have to say. In how you think and feel. It makes it easy to want to open up to him.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Haru said with a couple of firm nods. “I have a lot of trouble trusting others, but he has this genuineness to him. I didn’t notice it at first, but once I did, it made it easy for me to… well, to trust him. He likes to tease, and he can be selfish, but… he really does care about others.”

About us, she didn’t say. The way Akechi looked at her, she knew he knew it, though.

“I wonder about that selfish streak of his,” he mused. “Perhaps it’s because he had everything taken away from him that he wants more than he can have.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised… Being arrested must have been a traumatic experience. Especially since he had no one on his side,” Haru agreed, bowing her head. “He lost his girlfriend, his best friend betrayed him, his teachers and parents didn’t believe in him… I can only imagine how much that must have hurt.” She sighed. “That aside, though, if he’s the type who can fall in love with more than one person at once, then he might not truly understand what it’s like to want someone all to yourself.”

“…You have a point. I didn’t think he meant any harm, but…” Akechi laughed weakly. “I have a bad habit of, ah… wanting to give tit for tat.”

“You should do something about that,” Haru said sharply. “Everyone has a right to get angry when they’re wronged, but Ren deserves better than you lashing out at him when you get upset.”

Feet scuffing the walkway as he stopped, he gawked at her, seeming taken aback. Haru stopped too and frowned up at him. This was a point on which she wouldn’t back down.

At length, he murmured, “You’re right, of course. I realize this must sound like an excuse, but I’m really not used to… to being genuinely close with someone. That includes the…” His free hand wheeled in a round gesture. “The, the, forthrightness, of being able to be yourself with them. His demeanor invites one to speak honestly with him, and—experience has taught me I need to behave a certain way to gain acceptance, to be wanted, or else…” He trailed off, then abruptly turned away. “E-excuse me. I’m rambling at this point. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all that.”

“No, go on,” Haru insisted. “I asked. I’d like to know.”

He looked so baffled by that, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “Really?”

“This might seem strange to you, but… oh, how do I put it.” She pursed her lips; then she looked around carefully. The park remained empty. Still, she stepped closer and lowered her voice. “When I asked you before what it’s like to kill someone, to tell you the truth, I actually did want to know. If I can understand you and why you made the choices you did better, then perhaps I can…” She bowed her head. “Perhaps I can finally settle my own feelings.”

All of her feelings.

Meanwhile, Akechi looked no less baffled, and indeed had upgraded to astonished. Soon, though, he settled into a morose thoughtfulness and nodded. “I’ve never had someone I could talk to about it—for obvious reasons. It might be good to… to do so.” He paused. “But not here or now. Someplace private… and sometime when we have more—time.”

She nodded back. “I know just the place. Um… as for the time… perhaps this Sunday…?”

He chuckled. “That makes it sound almost like you’re asking me out on a date.”

Ugh, did he have to say that? She scowled at him.

He coughed into one hand. “Er, yes. Let’s figure out the exact day later. We have a lot of other things to do, too.”

“…All right.” As they both started walking again, “Then… about what you were saying earlier, about Ren…?”

After a moment of contemplative silence, Akechi murmured, “To put it simply, he puts me off-balance all the time, just by being who he is. At the same time that he intrigues me, he upsets me.”

“You’re jealous of him, aren’t you?” she said softly. “What you said back at the cruise ship…”

He glanced away. “…It’s true. I admire and resent him at the same time. How do I put it… he has a singular talent for cracking the walls of the box I’ve created for myself. Back on the cruise ship, it shattered all at once.” He laughed awkwardly and pushed his hair back. “Did you know he took me to a church confessional box once? I worried at first I might have slipped up or offended him, but it wasn’t like that at all. He just wanted to help me reflect, for the good of the team.” He sighed. “I was able to take it in stride once I realized what he was doing, but… for a moment, it felt like he’d seen right through me.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Terrified… but also a little relieved.” He lowered his hand and his gaze as they passed from the park onto the outer sidewalk, towards the train station. “Amamiya is the only one who truly understands and accepts me. For me, there isn’t anyone but him.”

“…And what will you do if he ends up not choosing you?”

“I…” His pace faltered, but only for a heartbeat or two. “…I honestly never thought he would choose me anyway. Not until recently, when you made it clear you saw me as a rival.”

Haru widened her eyes, then averted them. “O-oh.” A pause. “But what about now…?”

Akechi shot a glance towards the station. “Ah, you should hurry if you’re going to catch your train, Haru-san. You have someone to pick you up when you’re at your stop, right?”

She pursed her lips, but nodded. It was probably pushing too hard to ask that of him. She didn’t really want to think about what she’d do in that position, either—not right now. “Then… I’ll talk to you later, Akechi-kun. Good night.”

He bid her goodnight in return, and they parted there. She caught her train on time, and spend the ride home lost in thought.

Dr. Takemi rolled around in her chair, legs crossed, eyebrows raised. “And you say you’ve been having these headaches all week?”

“That is what I just said, yes,” Akechi said wearily, too tired and in pain to watch his tongue. When Haru had asked earlier, he’d managed to dismiss his dizzy spell as nothing, but in truth it had segued into an at-the-time mild but now steadily worsening headache. He came to Dr. Takemi’s clinic instead of going straight home because only her medicine did the trick anymore. Why did she have to make this so difficult?

“And just today you had a dizzy spell that preceded it?”

“Yes.”

“Is this normal for you?”

He rubbed his temples. “Does this matter? All I need are painkillers.”

“If you’re going to be like that, I’ll tell it to you straight, then,” she replied. “Persistent headaches that resist normal medicine are a bad sign. I’m trying to figure out if I should refer you to an actual hospital.”

His back stiffened. “How bad?”

“Do you really want me to say how bad it could be?”

“Yes. That’s why I asked,” he snapped.

“Brain cancer.”

All of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe.

“Headaches like what you’ve been describing could be symptomatic of a malignant tumor,” she continued evenly, ruthlessly. “If you’re lucky, this might be an early warning sign. If you’re even luckier, it’s not cancer or anything nearly that serious at all. But that’s the worst-case scenario in a sea of bad scenarios.” She frowned. “So if you get that, stop being a sassy little brat and answer my questions. I’m trying to diagnose you.”

He nodded once.

“So. Is this normal for you, or not?”

He shook his head.

“So this only started recently?”

Nod.

“When did these headaches start? Can you remember?”

When did they start? It was only recently, wasn’t it? Yes, it was definitely recently. In fact: “About a week ago, or a little less.”

Her eyebrows rose again. “As in when Amamiya dragged you into my clinic?”

He opened his mouth, shut it. “Yes. That’s it exactly.”

She leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s about time you told me what actually happened?”

Not this again. “That’s irrelevant to any diagnosis.”

“Hmm, nice try. But just as an example, if you’d sustained some kind of cranial injury—”

“And did I have any signs of a concussion when you had me in here?”

“No,” she admitted, “but—”

“There weren’t any signs of anything, were there?”

She frowned.

“So it’s irrelevant,” he pressed.

“Technically, it’s not that there weren’t any signs,” Dr. Takemi replied, still eyeballing him. “It’s just that I didn’t have the equipment here to make a precise diagnosis. Fortunately for you, I have a friend at a local hospital who owes me a favor. I can contact them to set up an appointment for you to get an MRI brain scan discreetly. If you refuse to give me information that seems blatantly connected to your current condition, then I would at least recommend you consent to this so we can get an idea of what’s going on in that hard skull of yours.”

You wouldn’t believe it anyway, he thought. Aloud, he said, “You said it can be done discreetly?” When she nodded, he sighed and nodded back. “Very well. How soon?”

“I’ll text you the details once I know, as a service.”

“Then until then, may I please purchase painkillers, like I came here to do in the first place?”

Her frown deepened. “For someone who acts so sweet and innocent on TV, you sure have a sharp tongue.”

“Please. That was about as sharp as a butter knife. Besides, I thought you weren’t familiar with me?”

She snorted. “I got curious and looked up some of your interviews.”

“I see. Well, you see, the difference is that the me during those interviews hadn’t been suffering from a week of persistent headaches. Surely a doctor of your skills can appreciate how untreated pain can make one short-tempered.”

She sighed, but the corner of her mouth flicked up. “Fine, fine. But promise me you’ll get that MRI no matter what.”

“I promise, then.”

“Good. Because if the appointment day comes and goes and you haven’t been, you’re not getting any more of the good stuff. Got it?”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She got up then at last. Relief flooded through him when she retrieved and gave him one of her special pills along with a cup of water, and it finally, finally killed his damn headache. There and gone in a literal instant. What a marvel. Once the pain was gone, though, it left plenty of room for low-key horror.

“Thank you,” he said, first off. “And I’m terribly sorry about my attitude earlier. I was unforgivably rude to you, Dr. Takemi.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. You were right about one thing: people in pain are rarely at their best. Speaking of which, how do you feel?”

“Better already,” he replied. “You’re a miracle worker.”

She half-smiled. “Thank Amamiya for being such a good guinea pig. His cooperation was vital to working out a lot of kinks for that medication.” Her smile faded. “But it’s still not at 100%, so be absolutely certain not to take more than one per day, and if you have any other complications, tell me immediately.”

“Yes, Doctor.” He paused. Good that he’d managed to cover for his slip in behavior earlier, but his horror wasn’t exorcised yet. “Um… Were you serious about…?”

“The cancer? Of course I was. That’s not something to joke about,” she replied. “But before you start fretting your pretty head off, remember I said that’s a worst-case scenario. It could be something else entirely. So just make sure you go in for that MRI when I tell you to. The procedure only takes half an hour, forty minutes or so, so it shouldn’t put you out too hard.”

“Thank you.”

She studied him with thoughtful eyes. “So. Now that you’re feeling cooperative and pain-free, will you tell me what happened to you that night, Akechi-kun?”

He bit back his annoyance. “You’re very persistent, Dr. Takemi.”

“I wouldn’t still be in this business if I weren’t.” She shook her head. “Anyway, I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ If you absolutely don’t want to tell me, fine. But you may want to mull it over on your own. It might give you some insight on why these headaches are happening.”

He bowed his head and stared into the empty cup. His headaches had started after his battle with Ren and the others. There was one thing in particular that had happened that might be the cause. But he absolutely couldn’t discuss it with someone not in the know.

Fortunately, she finally left it at that. He departed the clinic with a prescription and a bottle of blessed, blessed pills, safely locked inside his briefcase, and strode through the streets of Yongen-Jaya. In place of his head, his heart pounded to the tempo of his stride.

He rubbed his temple. The pain was gone, no more real than a midwinter night’s dream. But its cause was no doubt still there, still lurking inside his skull, possibly still wreaking havoc on his gray matter. Once again, he’d thought he could grasp a new start for himself, and once again he’d been proven gravely mistaken.

No, no, he shouldn’t think like that. Dr. Takemi had said it might not be as bad as all of that. Obsessing over unchangeable misfortunes was one of his specialties, but there was no point in worrying about it until after he had the results of the MRI.

All the same, he desperately needed something good to happen. He needed someone to pull him close and hold him, stroke his hair, and murmur to him that everything would be all right. He needed someone who could make him believe everything would be all right.

Ren.

As he passed by Leblanc on the way to the train station, he lingered and gazed up at the attic. Then he took a deep breath and continued on home.

Once he made it there, Akechi locked his apartment door behind him, left his shoes in the foyer, and loosened his tie as he collapsed onto his couch with an explosive sigh. He gave himself a few moments to rest and relax, then checked his phone.

There was a little time. Maybe a hot shower would help. Did he have dinner, either? He might have skipped dinner. Yes, now that he thought about it, he’d skipped dinner. That explained the dizziness. Maybe even his most recent headache. Maybe that was all it was. He was letting Dr. Takemi’s worst-case scenario freak him out. He was fine. He was fine.

Was Haru fine? If he’d skipped dinner, that meant so had she. He shot her a text asking if she’d eaten, then checked his fridge.

Nothing, really. There was a carton of eggs, a bottle of milk, a pack of energy drinks, and that was it. He drank the milk and washed out the bottle for recycling, then checked the freezer. Plenty of instant meals, balanced for nutrition, if with an excess of sodium. That wouldn’t help his blood pressure any, but was that worse than not eating at all? He considered for a while, then stuck one in the microwave and checked his phone. Haru had texted back, ‘I just finished, thank you.’

That was good. He left it at that and took a brief, hot shower, then changed into casual clothes and ate. By the time he was done, he felt much better.

Next item on the agenda: the group chat. Akechi opened his laptop, set his phone next to it, and chatted on the latter while he worked on the former. He opened with polite greetings, confirmed how everyone’s Palace dives had been going so far (Team Queen: well, Team Joker: decently, Team Mona: much more difficult than expected but not impossibly so), and then brought up his foray.

‘Ooe’s become paranoid,’ he explained, ‘and that’s made alarming changes to his Palace. He anticipates the Phantom Thieves targeting him next, so the belltower where his Treasure is almost certainly located has become inaccessible.’

‘Wait, doesn’t that mean you can’t change his heart?’ Ann asked, after accounting for text-speak. ‘That’s a big problem!’

‘There’s an even bigger problem,’ Akechi typed back, then hesitated after hitting enter. Haru had already told Ren via phone, but how should he broach this to the team…?

Before he could decide, Haru picked up the thread: ‘Ooe-san’s Shadow caught us while we were on the way out.’

‘Woah, you guys okay?’ Ryuji asked.

‘That’s not good,’ Makoto stated. ‘Now that he knows for certain the Phantom Thieves are targeting him, that’ll only make things harder.’

‘About that…’ Akechi typed.

At the same time, Haru posted, ‘We managed to escape, thankfully, but…’

‘Tell us what happened,’ Ren prompted.

So Akechi and Haru told them.

‘LOL,’ Futaba decreed. Then, in case anyone hadn’t gotten it, she added, ‘LOLOLOLOL’

‘it wasn’t that funny,’ Akechi responded, all in lower caps, to better convey his displeasure.

‘I’m impressed you were able to convince the Shadow you were an assassin-in-training, Haru,’ Yusuke remarked. ‘I wasn’t aware you were a thespian.’

‘I just followed Akechi-kun’s lead,’ Haru replied. ‘I don’t think I could have done it without him there, or without having discussed it first.’

‘I apologize for doing it without conferring with you first, Amamiya,’ Akechi added as she and Yusuke continued their side conversation, ‘but it was an emergency.’

‘It’s OK, I understand,’ Ren said. ‘If he bought it, go for it. It’s not like you have to actually kill anyone.’

‘There’s one thing that troubles me,’ Makoto said. ‘You said Shadow Ooe said something to the effect of that being what Shido had meant when he said the shutdowns, or rather the ‘smitings,’ would continue? What do you think he meant by that?’

Akechi’s eyes lidded. He hadn’t really wanted to think too deeply on that one. Still: ‘Shido-san had intended to kill me once he was elected. If he’d been telling Ooe-san and the others that he’d still do shutdowns for them once he was in power—and he would to keep securing their support—and they knew about that, naturally they’d assume he had a replacement for me lined up.’

‘Do you think he actually did have a replacement?’ Makoto asked. ‘If he does, that could be big trouble.’

‘I doubt it. Persona-Users aren’t something you can just make. He was probably lying to buy time. What would they do once he was in power? Take him to court?’

‘Wouldn’t that weaken his alliance with them, though?’

‘I’m not sure he would care. He probably planned on having them killed after the election, too.’

‘God damn,’ Ryuji remarked. ‘Your dad really is a piece of shit.’

“Tell me about it,” Akechi muttered sourly to himself.

‘Whatever! In another week and a half it’s not gonna matter anymore, right?’ Ann pointed out then. ‘Shido’s heart’s already changed. We just gotta change his yes-men’s hearts too, and that’ll be the end of everything!’

‘True,’ Ren said. ‘Morgana says you’re so wise, Lady Ann.’

‘Heehee! Thanks, Morgana! ♥’

Despite himself, Akechi smiled. She had a point. Better not to worry about trivialities, then. ‘There’s another aspect of this that I want to discuss before I go forward with it,’ he typed in. ‘The most efficient way of changing Ooe-san’s cognition about who is allowed into the clocktower is for me to contact him and pretend to offer him my “services.” Since our deadline is Election Day, I can easily convince him not to call in any “favors” until after then for safety’s sake to avoid him calling my bluff, and he’ll still see me as an ally.’

‘I see,’ Makoto said. ‘That would make it easy to get to his Treasure.’

‘uhhhhhhh are you really gonna go to one of shido’s dudes and offer to start killing for him again,’ Futaba said. ‘cuz i have. problems. with this idea.’

‘Pretend to. Pretend,’ Akechi stressed. ‘And only if you all agree to it. I’m sure you’re not the only one with doubts. If need be, I can work solely on convincing Shadow Ooe. It’s doable.’

‘Would you be able to convince him in time?’ Yusuke asked.

‘I don’t know. I believe I should, though.’

‘That might cut it too close,’ Makoto said. ‘We have to be able to change four hearts simultaneously, so no one can raise their guard against us.’

‘I’m worried about that, too,’ Haru said. ‘I think it would make it much easier for Akechi-kun and me if Ooe-san’s real-world cognition changes.’

‘The same been true of many of our previous targets,’ Yusuke added. ‘I also have some concerns, though. Perhaps if Futaba taps the call so we can all listen in?’

‘Hmmm. I DO already have Aketchy’s phone tapped,’ Futaba said.

Akechi opened his mouth; shut it. ‘…When did you tap my phone?’ he asked, though he couldn’t say he was shocked by it. Knowing this made a whole lot of things make sense.

‘Listen,’ she replied, ‘don’t even worry about it.’

‘I’m definitely going to worry about it…’

‘It’s OK, dude, she has, like, all our phones tapped, I’m pretty sure,’ Ryuji piped in. Akechi made a face at his screen. Did they really not see a problem with this? Or were they just that used to Futaba’s ways? ‘Anyway if you can sucker that old dude, I’m in!’

‘Yeah, it’s not like anyone has to actually get hurt!’ Ann added. ‘This seems pretty risk-free to me?’

‘Morgana and I agree,’ Ren said. ‘Plus, this way, Futaba won’t have to join you for the last Palace dive, and can focus on helping one of the other teams.’

‘Sold,’ Futaba said.

Ren continued, ‘Akechi, when were you planning on contacting him?’

‘The sooner, the better. Tomorrow, perhaps.’

‘Can you do it tonight?’

‘I deleted his contact information along with the others’ when I broke ties with Shido. I’d have to find his number first.’

‘That’s cool. I’ve got a copy of your contact list as of a month and a half ago,’ Futaba said. ‘I’ll forward it to you now.’

“Hrrmm,” Akechi muttered aloud. Still, when the private text file reached him, he opened it up and scrolled through. He picked Ooe’s pseudonym, then re-entered his number. ‘I’m ready if you all are, then.’

‘One sec,’ Futaba said. A window popped up on his phone; it vanished, then reappeared on his laptop, much to his alarm. Several flashing programs later, and the phone chatroom had been transferred to his laptop, and his phone looked suspiciously normal. ‘OK, go.’

He eyed his laptop. The others chimed in to say they were ready too. Futaba truly was a fearsome enemy… Not that he hadn’t known that already after the Medjed incident. Akechi’s gaze flicked down. It would be excruciatingly simple for her to destroy him if she were so inclined. Hell, she could take a recording of the conversation-to-be and leak it to the public. But—no. He didn’t think she’d do anything to jeopardize the Phantom Thieves. Besides, if what he suspected were true, she no doubt already had plenty of incriminating evidence on him. What was a little more?

So he took a deep breath, put on his game face, hit the contact button for Ooe, and waited.

The line connected. “I didn’t think I would hear from you again,” said Ooe’s voice on the other side, smooth and schooled into perfect neutrality.

Akechi responded in kind: “Have you that little faith in me, sir?”

“I’d had the impression that the one who lacked faith was you.”

“Hmmm… Then perhaps I was a bit too convincing. I’m glad to hear it, though. If even you believed my little act, then the others certainly did.”

“Oh?” A beat. Then: “Ah, I see now. It was a test.”

He staged a laugh. “Please, nothing so presumptuous as that, sir! I would call it less a test and more a way to ensure future discretion.”

“You’re a canny young lad. Much more so than I’d given you credit for,” said Ooe. He sounded impressed. Akechi hated how that made him feel good. No wonder Shido had thought of him as a puppet; his strings were so easily pulled. “Then I take it you’ve made up your mind on—how did you put it?—what you’ll be doing next.”

“The future of this country is in grave danger,” he replied, which was certainly true. Just as true: “After deep consideration and observation, I believe that you hold the key to saving it, sir.” An absolute farce: “Only you can reasonably fill his shoes until he is well again.”

“I see. Hmmm…”

Silence. Akechi let it run as long as Ooe liked. He glanced at the chat window; nothing new.

“Very well,” Ooe finally said. “The situation being what it is, I will do my utmost to make him and this country proud. I look forward to working with you once more, young man. How soon do you intend to resume business?”

“For discretion’s sake, I would recommend nothing overt until after things have settled down, nationally speaking. But…”

“But?”

“For the time being, internal affairs can expect to see us again.” ‘Internal affairs’ being code for ‘one’s Shadow self,’ meaning it was more a message for Shadow Ooe than Ooe himself.

“I see,” he replied, and his tone made it clear the message was received. “Then I’ll leave you to it for the time being.”

“Likewise. Do please take care of business on your end, sir. I’ll continue to watch your work closely and be in touch.”

“Indeed. I’ll keep an eye on your work as well,” Ooe replied, sounding faintly amused.

They both hung up. Akechi loosed a sigh, then looked back at the chat on his laptop. The others had re-started the discussion, Yusuke remarking on how smooth his adult-handling was, Ann and Ryuji expressing some confusion about the language he’d used, Futaba explaining it to them.

‘Akechi-kun, when do you want to go in next?’ Haru typed then.

‘Tomorrow after school works for me if it works for you. The sooner we get everything set up for the final heist, the better.’

‘All right,’ she said.

‘Does anyone else have any remarks?’ he added.

No one did. The chat meandered from there, changing from everyone else’s Palace experiences to their daily experiences and so on. Akechi participated in the conversation as needed, offering insight into the IT president’s character for Morgana and Yusuke to make use of as they essayed the new, extra brutal traps that Futaba had helped them uncover as they’d gone into his Palace. Then he commented less and less, until at last he had a break to IM Futaba directly, which he did on his phone.

‘If I asked nicely,’ he said to her, ‘would you please stop bugging my phone?’

‘Nope :)’ she replied.

Well. So much for that. He had a feeling she’d react that way, though. He’d just have to be careful what he said on this phone going forward. Though, just to try, he did add:

‘Could you at least stop hacking my laptop, please?’

‘Double nope :)’

Sigh. C’est la vie. Her abilities exceeded even the IT president’s, so he couldn’t keep her out even if he trashed this one and bought a new laptop entirely with state-of-the-art protections. He considered his options, then attempted a different angle:

‘We may not need to team up anymore for the final night, but we’re still all in this together now. I’m not asking you to like me, but it would help us both if you could spare me a bit of trust.’

‘That’s exactly WHY I’m bugging your electronics,’ she replied promptly. ‘I trust you a lot more when I know for a fact you’re not secretly scheming.’

He wondered if she’d bugged his apartment, too. Unlikely, granted. That kind of bugging would require her to physically come over to his apartment, and he doubted she could have broken in without getting noticed. Just in case, though, he’d have to do a sweep later.

‘Shouldn’t you know by now that I’m not?’ he typed.

‘I’m not letting my guard down until the job is done for real.’

Well. That was the sensible thing to do. ‘Then you’ll stop bugging me after it’s done?’

‘Maybe.’

He frowned. ‘As I’ve said repeatedly, I’m not actually going back into the business. It’s just a ruse to make our job easier.’

‘Yeah. You’re probably telling the truth about that. That doesn’t matter, though.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because you’re evil.’

That hurt a hell of a lot more than Akechi ever could have imagined it would. He started to type up a few different replies but deleted them all. As the hurt subsided, though, his temper flared. Where did she get off, calling him evil? Well, okay, fine, she had every right to that opinion, but she was just as much of a criminal as he was!

‘That’s unfair,’ he thus finally managed. ‘You’ve committed immoral actions too.’

‘Bullshit. Even if I accept that’s true, we operate on totally different scales.’

Agitation rising, he furiously typed, ‘Don’t put that in present tense! I’m not that person anymore!’

‘LOL’ And, perhaps just to mock him, she added, ‘LOLOLOLOL’ And then finally: ‘You’re only “not that person anymore” because you’re thirsty for Ren and you want his approval. If you thought you could get away with it, you’d absolutely still axe anyone in your way.’

He rocked back in his seat. How did she--? Oh. Right. Of course. Bugging his electronics. Of course she knew about his feelings for Ren. ‘That’s not true! I could have done that with Haru-san this very day and I didn’t!’ he argued.

‘Yeah? Duh? If you let Haru die, Ren would hate you forever. Of course you wouldn’t do it.’

That… was true. He’d admitted as much to Haru earlier. Uneasiness wrapping like a snake around his chest, he protested, ‘Then if you accept that I won’t do anything that would alienate him from me, isn’t that reason enough to give me at least some trust?’

‘Nope.’

You’re infuriating, he thought. ‘Why not?’

‘I’m not good at reading people. Ren might be able to see right through you, but I need to actually watch to know for sure.’

‘What do you mean, see right through me?’

‘Did you forget already, pancake boy? We’ve known from the start you were the killer.’

The sensation of a dull impact on his chest rocked through his body, and he nearly dropped his phone. “Wha…” he uttered, unable to type a thing.

Despite his lack of response, she answered all the same: ‘Remember? When you first met Ren and Ann and Ryuji and Mona? Mona was talking about wanting pancakes and you heard him. Only a Persona-User should be able to do that. Ergo you were lying about when you got your Persona, and the only reason you’d do that is if you actually were the assassin you claimed you saw kill Haru’s dad. Not that we needed your input to know for sure, since you were the only suspect.’

A yawning weightlessness, like falling into a pitch-black, bottomless ravine, overtook his body. He still didn’t respond. He couldn’t form the words. He… he knew? Ren knew, from the very start…? How… how could he have… he never said… a thing…

‘And anyway, you’re just naturally messed up,’ Futaba typed, jarring him from his shock. ‘Look, I do get how you feel. I wanted revenge, too. We talked about this in Shido’s Palace. But even I, a weirdo shut-in with zero social prowess at the time, wouldn’t have gone as far as you did.’

Fingers shaking, he typed out, deleted, typed out, deleted, and typed out a halting response: ‘That’s not fair. I know what I did was wrong. I admit that, and I am truly sorry, for whatever that’s worth to you. But I didn’t have the support you and the others did. If I’d had Ren in my life back then, none of this would have ever happened.’

‘Really? That kind of makes it worse, in my opinion. Do you really need someone to tell you killing is wrong?’

He stared at the smartphone screen. The world spun, centered around that single message.

Do you really need someone to tell you killing is wrong?

‘I’ll take it from the dumb look on your face that you concede my point,’ Futaba concluded. ‘So, no, I’m not going to stop bugging your stuff. Period. Deal with it, Aketchy.’

The chat window vanished, both from his phone and his laptop. His hands were shaking so badly now he could barely keep hold of his phone. With infinite care, he turned it off and set it down next to his laptop, which he powered off too. Then he took off his gloves, went to the bathroom, lifted the toilet seat, dropped to his knees, and vomited up his over-salted dinner.

It was some time before he stopped heaving, or maybe no time at all. Time no longer had meaning. All that existed were the unrelenting waves of nausea, punctuated by the echo of memories:

We’ve known from the start you were the killer.

The entire time you spent with us as a Phantom Thief, I knew you were my father’s killer.

If they knew the whole time…

My boy, of course I knew.

How can you be that oblivious to other people’s feelings and still call yourself a detective?

What did he kill all those people for?

Do you really need someone to tell you killing is wrong?

I want to believe my son will be a better man than I was, and choose to do the right thing on his own.

What did he…

The same question he’d asked himself during his last conversation with Shido returned to him like his dinner. Back then, he’d been able to compartmentalize it. Been able to shove all the uncertainty of the future away by pretending he still had a place to go. Now…

He stared blankly at chunky contents of the toilet. It made him retch again, but all he spat up were a few sour dribbles of stomach acid. He coughed, hacked, and panted, but finally he was empty.

No. He’d always been empty.

After flushing, he rose dizzily and stumbled to the sink, where he washed his mouth, nose, and face. His mind spun with images of the battle in Shido’s Palace. It had been so recent, and yet it felt like so long ago, like a mirage of an oasis wavering nearer and farther in the desert. He’d always struggled on towards those rivers, seeking to quench his parched body with a mouthful of cool water, but all he’d ended up with were burnt feet.

He met the eyes of his reflection. His other self looked so haggard. His eyes were lightless and forming dark circles underneath, his hair hung in limp, dull strands, his cheeks sunken. He reached out, and it reached out in turn. They both looked so exhausted. Near dead.

Akechi. Did you want to die?

He grit his teeth and eyelids. He gripped the sides of the sink to keep from collapsing. He both wished Ren were there and was glad he wasn’t.

how

did he always

know?

The next day, Akechi called out from school.

Chapter Text

The early dawn light glittered behind the Tokyo skyline, heralding the new day. It dazzled and burned Akechi’s eyes, and he averted them.

The crosswalk was just ahead of him. Though the light was green, he didn’t move. After pulling a near all-nighter, his mind was in a light haze, but that wasn’t the entire reason he remained rooted to the spot as pedestrians streamed around him.

This was the crosswalk where Wakaba Isshiki had died.

If bile didn’t rise in his throat, that was only because of his blessedly empty stomach. His grip tightened on his briefcase, and he took a deep breath, let it out. He had to get to the train station; he had much to do today, and little time in which to do it. But this particular piece of his past had him chained to the spot.

Foolish of him, really. He’d always avoided this crosswalk ever since that day two years ago. Maybe it was his conversation with Futaba last night that had dragged him back here today. But if he was going to return, he should have at least approached it from a different angle.

“Enough,” he mumbled to himself as the crosswalk light flashed. “The longer you stay here, the longer you’ll have to wallow in that memory. Just move one foot forward, and--”

The light turned red. Naturally.

He leaned on the traffic light on his side and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so tired. His briefcase weighed heavy in his other hand. It was tempting to turn around and go home, but he knew perfectly well he wouldn’t get any sleep anyway. It was better to move forward. Then at least he could make progress on what he’d decided to do. Ha, but when had he ever moved forward? Even now he was still bound to the past--now, in this moment, especially.

A commotion up ahead managed to pierce his self-loathing. He looked up to see people berating someone who’d hunched up in a ball on the other side of the street as they passed her by. That someone was familiar. He squinted; then he sucked in a breath.

Long orange hair, headphones hanging on her neck, round glasses askew as she pressed hands to her ears. Yes, it was her. Akechi glanced to the right of her at the street and understood immediately the source of her distress. The reason for her being here in the first place was a different matter.

The light changed again, and he hurried across the street to kneel down next to her. She hadn’t moved from where she’d scrunched herself up. From this distance, he could hear her whimpering, could see the tears in the corners of her eyes. While he was certain he was the last person she’d want to see right now, this felt like something he couldn’t ignore.

So: “Futaba-san?” he called gently.

She peeked over at him, then yelped and shoved him away. Both of them fell on their behinds. Pedestrians who had to walk around them glared at them both, but Akechi paid them no mind.

“Wh-wh-wh-what’re you doing here?!” Futaba demanded, red-faced.

Probably the same thing you are, Akechi thought. “Heading to the train station,” he said aloud. He picked himself up, dusted himself off, and offered her a hand he was certain she wouldn’t take. “What about you?”

Sure enough, Futaba slapped his hand away and scrambled to her feet on her own. “N-none of your b-business,” she snapped, folding her arms defensively in front of her.

He glanced to one side, at the street to his right and her left. He could hear the screech of tires; the wet thump of an already-dead body; the screaming and screaming and screaming. He fought the urge to clutch his stomach and instead retrieved his briefcase. “I see. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Futaba turned her head and scowled pointedly away from him. Akechi stepped past her. He got about three footfalls away before he stopped and looked over his shoulder. She was shaking, and--yes, that was a sniffle.

He sighed noiselessly and bowed his head. “...Are you having trouble crossing this particular street?”

“N-no,” she snapped, her tone deeply defensive. “I’m hanging out here b-because I want to!”

“I see.”

A long pause. The light changed, and changed again. Neither of them moved.

“Would you… like some assistance crossing the road?” he hazarded.

“No!”

“I see.”

Another long pause. Several more people gave them odd looks as they passed by, but no one said anything to them.

At length, Akechi sighed, this time out loud. Then he turned around and stooped down in front of Futaba, his back to her. “I’ll carry you across,” he offered, looking pointedly away.

“I’m not a k-kid! I don’t need a piggy-back ride!” she snapped, kicking him.

He winced, but didn’t move.

At the end of a third pause, he felt her climb on. “Fine. Wh-whatever,” she muttered, her voice right behind his ear. “You owe me, anyway.”

No argument there. He stood, made sure his hold was secure, and began the long walk across the road where Futaba’s mother had died. “Where were you trying to go?” he murmured.

“Mmmphphphphm,” she mumbled. Then she pointed over his shoulder at somewhere ahead. “The bakery.”

He looked. Across the street and down the block a ways was indeed a bakery. He picked up the pace and soon left the street behind. She didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t try to engage her in further conversation. Futaba herself was light, but the weight of carrying her laid heavy upon him.

The door to the bakery jangled as he carefully maneuvered it open, then slipped inside. Once there, he let her down and stepped away from her.

“I’ll pay for you,” he offered quietly.

She tucked her hands together behind her back. “This doesn’t make up for anything, you know.”

He lowered his gaze and nodded. “I know.”

“Welcome!” a woman behind the counter cheered. “What can I get for you two?”

Futaba strode over to one of the pastry displays and crouched down. Akechi trailed behind her, but offered the saleswoman a polite smile.

“We’ll let you know when we decide,” he said.

The woman bowed. “Please take your time.”

He nodded, then surveyed the baked goods display with Futaba. The cream buns reminded him of a TV spot he’d done once where he went on about how he liked sweets because they provided energy for the brain. Contrary to what he claimed, though, he didn’t have a strong preference on flavors or foods. If he had to pick a favorite, sure, fine, sweet would do. But as far as his mental collection of restaurants to recommend to adults was concerned, his palate wasn’t nearly as refined as he pretended it was.

Honestly, food was annoying. One had to consume it so often, and it took time away from more important matters. All it was good for was being a prop for socialization. If he didn’t have to eat, he wouldn’t. On his bad days, the concept itself appalled him.

His bad days, like today. He looked away.

Well, collapsing on the street was hardly attractive, either. He forced himself to look back up and smile. “I don’t suppose you serve coffee here?” he asked the saleswoman.

“I’m afraid we don’t brew it fresh, but we do have canned coffee available.”

“I’ll have a canned coffee, then, and...” He glanced down at Futaba. What would she like? “Milk for her,” he guessed.

Apparently he guessed wrong, because she promptly punched him in the thigh.

“Er, make that apple juice—ow!” He shot Futaba an exasperated glance. “What don’t you like about apple juice?”

Futaba glared up at him over the top of her round glasses. “I’m not a little k-kid, dummy!”

Akechi sighed and rubbed his temples. Of course. She lived with a barista. “Two canned coffees, please.”

Apparently the saleswoman had entirely the wrong impression from this interaction, because she giggled. “Anything else?”

Futaba stood and pointed at a dark chocolate croissant, a red bean bun, a custard bread, and a pork roll in turn. “I’ll have that, that, that, annnnd that.”

“Just the coffee for me, please,” Akechi said, pulling out his wallet.

Futaba stared at him as the saleswoman fetched the requested goods. Then she pointed at a melon bread. “Actually, gimme one of those, too.”

Do you really intend on eating all that? he wondered. All the same, he nodded to the saleswoman.

She bagged all the requests and, as Akechi paid, gave them both a friendly smile. “Have a nice day! You’re such a sweet young man, indulging your sister like this.”

He stared. “My what?”

“I’m not his sister!” Futaba uttered in outrage the same second.

“Oh!” Looking embarrassed, the saleswoman’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m terribly sorry, I just thought you looked alike…”

Akechi and Futaba stared at each other. If she bore any resemblance to him, he certainly didn’t see it. He plastered on his usual TV smile for the saleswoman. “No, she’s just… the friend of a friend.”

“I guess that’s true,” Futaba muttered.

“Oh, I see…” Quickly, she finished bagging the baked goods and handed Akechi his change. “Please come again!”

Eager to get the interaction over with, he simply smiled and nodded. A moment later, he sat with Futaba on a bench just outside the bakery while she rummaged around the bag of goods and grabbed the red bean bun.

Though it was still early, the sun had fully risen by then. Traffic had grown livelier. Akechi watched it pass by, unopened coffee cradled in his hands, as Futaba scarfed down her breakfast and chased it with a drink.

“S-so what were you really doing around here?” she asked him, frowning. “This isn’t all that close to your place.”

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied, gaze still rooted forward. “But I won’t, because I already know.”

That gave her pause. She covered it with several gulps of her coffee. “The canned kind really is crap,” she commented, staring down at it when she was done. “I sh-should’ve held out for Sojiro’s.”

Akechi said nothing.

After a long silence, Futaba muttered, “Why do you know where Mom d-died? It’s not like you were there in person.”

He looked away and held his tongue.

“Wh-whatever. It’s not like it’d change anything.” She finished off her drink and threw the remains of her breakfast in a nearby trash can. “Are you trying to be nice to me?”

“Well, yes.” I thought that was obvious, he didn’t add.

“It’s not gonna m-make me change my mind about you.”

“I know.”

She heaved a sigh. Then she hopped to her feet and shoved one of the parchment-wrapped goods from her bag into his hands. “Here.”

He nearly dropped it in surprise. When he looked down, he saw the melon bread. He stared up at her.

“Thanks or whatever for earlier,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “Still don’t like you.”

Despite everything, he smiled and meant it. “I appreciate your honesty.”

She mumble-grumbled something incomprehensible.

He looked down at the melon bread. “Are you sure you want to share with me, though? You seemed rather, ah, ravenous.”

“What, y-you think this is all for me?” she huffed. “The rest of these are for Sojiro, Ren, and Mona. Duh. For a detective, you sure are dumb.”

His eyelids drooped. “…So I’ve come to realize.”

She eyed him. He tugged at the wax paper around the melon bread she’d given him, but didn’t eat. People and vehicles passed by, and this time, paid neither of them any heed.

Eventually, he said softly, “You were right about me.”

“Y-yeah, I know I’m right about you,” she shot back, but there was something uncertain about her body language. Maybe it was the way she shifted from one foot to the other, the way she half-turned to present less of her profile. Maybe he was just imagining it. “What about it?”

“Nothing meaningful, I suppose.” He held the bun out to her. “Thank you for the thought. But I’m not hungry.”

Warily, she took it and stuffed it back in the bag. “S-suit yourself.” Then she turned and began to walk away.

He lifted his head. “Ah, Futaba-san--”

She stopped to frown over her shoulder at him. “What d’you want?”

He hesitated.

A woman lurching off the curb. The burnt-rubber screech of tires, too late. Two dull thuds, so close together they might be one. And a high-pitched scream that wouldn’t end, wouldn’t stop, would never stop chasing him even long after he fled the scene.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, averting his eyes. “Just--”

“Make up your mind!!”

“…Just, I think it’s brave of you to confront what… what happened. I admire that about you.”

She squinted at him with furrowed brows for a moment. Then, without a word, she turned and walked briskly away. It only took a few seconds to rev up into a jog, and then an all-out run.

Akechi watched her go, then clutched his arms to his chest. It was already cold, and his iced coffee numbed his fingers further even through his gloves. If only the rest of him could be numb. He could never atone for what he’d done, could he…? Was there any point in even trying?

He’d already missed his train by now. If he wanted to catch the next one and still make good time on what he’d set out to do today, he had to get up and hurry.

Akechi remained on the bench for a moment longer, thinking of Ren. Then he shoved his unopened drink in his jacket pocket, got up, and hurried.

A few hours past lunch, Ren got a text from Goro. It read: ‘I have something to give you. It’s important. Please meet me at my place.’ And then a text with his address.

Ren had never been to Goro’s place, so even without this important thing, he was intrigued. Fortunately, he was already out to return a few DVDs he’d rented a few weeks ago, and he’d been planning to head to Book Town afterwards to see if they had anything interesting for sale. He did have the rest of his Palace run to do with Ryuji, but that wasn’t until later that evening. For now, he had time. He texted back his acceptance and soon was on his way.

The complex was U-shaped and layered with plenty of windows, and located in a nice neighborhood. Ren admired it from the outside, then head up to the second floor, double-checked the apartment number, and rang the correct doorbell. After a few subtle sounds inside, the door opened, revealing…

“Uh, wow,” Ren uttered. “Are you okay?”

Goro looked like he’d gotten maybe an hour of sleep last night, two tops. His eyes were bleary, his shoulders were slumped, and his uniform was wrinkled. Ren reached out reflexively to smooth down a crease but remembered himself just in time.

For his part, Goro gave him a thin smile. “I didn’t sleep well last night,” he murmured. Figures. “Spent most of it thinking. About… things.” He paused, bowing his head. Then he stepped to one side, opening the door wider. “I figured I’d keep this brief,” he murmured, “but maybe you’d better come inside after all.”

“Okay,” Ren said, taking him up on that.

As Goro locked up behind him, Ren took around. It was a nice place. Extremely clean, which he kind of figured from Goro. Immediately ahead and to his left, there were two large bookcases filled with novels, reference books, and trinkets, and between them was a stereo system. There was a widescreen TV on the wall to his right, with a bureau of various electronics, movies, and even a few video games underneath. A coffee table and a couch rested before it, with a single-seater chair to one side. Beyond that, he could see a square table optimistically chaired for four, and beyond that, a small kitchen. A pair of glass sliding doors nearby showed off a single seat on the balcony.

Despite it obviously being the dining table, it was mostly stacked with books and paperwork, though how much of it was for school and how much for detective work, he couldn’t tell. Akechi’s laptop was there too, though it wasn’t open. His phone and a thumb drive were set on top of it.

A hallway branched away from the living/dining room, two doors to the left and one all the way down. A bathroom, a bedroom, and maybe a closet? As far as decorations went, there wasn’t much. No flowers, no portraits, no posters, not even any stickers. The walls were painted a neutral beige, probably the same color they’d been when Goro first moved in. A Western-style porcelain statuette of a young boy, a small bronze Laughing Buddha, a plush dog with a deerstalker, and a calico-painted clay beckoning cat adorned the bookcases, the first two on the left and the last two on the right. He approached the bookcases and pointed at the trinkets.

“These don’t seem like your usual style,” he commented. “Where’d you get them?”

“They were gifts from clients,” Goro replied, subdued. “Grateful clients who insisted on giving me something extra for,” his mouth twisted into a sardonic, bitter smile, “‘bringing their loved one’s killer to justice.’” His smile faded, and he hung his head again. “…I don’t know why I keep them.”

“You seem… really down,” Ren observed warily.

He laughed, or maybe sobbed. It was hard to tell. “I just realized something about myself, that’s all. But that’s not important.” He shook his head and swayed on his feet--teetered over--Ren dashed forward to catch him before he collapsed.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” he demanded.

“Maybe a little…?” he mumbled.

Ren helped him over to the couch and felt his forehead. His skin was cold and clammy. “You should get some rest.”

“I can’t. I have too much to do.”

“Like what?”

“I have to finish up the Palace run with Haru-san today.”

“You have a little less than a week to do that. I’ll explain things to her. Go get some rest.”

“I still have something to give you…”

“It can wait. Get some rest.”

“I...”

Ren shut his eyes briefly and gave himself a moment to stomp down on his impatience. Whatever was going on had to be serious. It wouldn’t help to snap at him. “Get some rest,” he insisted. “The way you are right now, I’m amazed you didn’t pass out at school.”

“I didn’t go to school today.”

“What?” Ren almost asked so what did you do instead of school or sleep?, but he held back. “At least take a nap,” he said instead, gentling his tone. “I’m worried about you.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Goro grimaced with teeth clenched hard, eyes and brows trembling like he was on the verge of tears. He slumped and mumbled, “Fine.”

Ren sighed, some of the tension leaking from his shoulders. “Good. We’ll talk later.” He eased up. Before he could actually stand, Goro grabbed his sleeve.

“Amamiya,” he choked. “Before you go. I need you to do me a favor. Please.”

Anything, he thought, chest squeezing. “What is it?”

“Please, don’t laugh or question it. But I need you to hold me, and stroke my hair, and tell me everything’s going to be all right.”

Ah, geez. He barely even needed to ask. Ren gently took Goro into his arms, gathered him close and combed his fingers through his beautiful hair. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “It’s all going to be all right, Akechi.”

Goro gripped the front of Ren’s shirt. “Shut up. You don’t know that. You can’t possibly know that,” he hissed, clinging tight. “Don’t you dare lie to me!!”

Taken aback, Ren almost let him go. He didn’t because insight struck: Goro didn’t just want to be told, he wanted to be convinced. “I mean it,” he thus murmured, tracing a line down his back with his other hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Goro hunched in closer to him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” he growled hoarsely into his shoulder. “Nothing’s okay, nothing’s going to be okay!”

“Shh, shh… It’ll all work out in the end, you’ll see. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“Shut up! Shut up, you smug--arrogant--infuriating--” He pounded a fist on Ren’s chest with each invective, then sucked in a shaky breath. “Do you think I’m stupid?! Do you think I can be taken in by such transparent lies?! Admit it! You think I’m stupid!”

“I don’t think you’re stupid, Akechi.”

“Then don’t lie to me!!”

“I’m not lying to you.”

He sobbed, maybe in anger, maybe in anguish, and buried his face in Ren’s shoulder. “Then you must be stupid. You’re an idiot, to have such groundless faith in the future.”

Ren traced his nails through Goro’s hair down the back of his neck, stroke after stroke. “Nah. I know the future’s unreliable. I’ve lost everything too before, you know? And, for the record, if I said this shit to myself back at the beginning of the year, I’d want to tell me to shut up too, so I get it. I really do. But I came out the other side of that, and I promise, even if it seems hopeless now, it won’t be forever. You’ll see, too. Everything’ll be all right in the end.”

Goro sobbed again, then choked--then his breath hitched in a series of staccato gasps--and then the dam burst. As he keened, he clutched Ren’s back and kept his face rooted to Ren’s shoulder. Ren let him let it out and kept holding him and stroking his hair. It was, admittedly, all he could think of to do. While he’d seen Goro more explosively emotional than this, he’d never seen him in this much raw pain.

When Goro’s crying eventually slowed and quieted to sniffles, Ren started breathing easier too. “You feel a little better now?” he murmured, letting his hand rest on the nape of Goro’s neck.

Goro nodded a little, sniffling. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Ren smiled and leaned his head on Goro’s. “Anytime.”

They remained in each other’s arms for a while longer. Ren shut his eyes and enjoyed it, now that he could. Too soon, though, Goro stirred and pulled away, head bowed so deeply his hair hid his face completely from view.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, somehow both sharp and thick, when Ren reached to touch his cheek. “I’m sure I’m hideous right now.”

“I’m sure you’re not,” Ren replied, but he retracted his hand and turned around anyway.

Still sniffling, Goro eased off the couch. Ren heard him walk away to another room. The bathroom faucet creaked on a moment later, just before the shutting of the door muffled it.

Once he’d gone, Ren unzipped and shrugged off his hoodie. The left shoulder was soaked through with tears and glistened with snot. Better to fold it up quietly and put it to one side. He’d launder it once he went home. That done, he waited for Goro to return.

Akechi stared at his reflection. An ugly, pathetic, blotchy-faced, puffy-eyed, miserable piece of raw garbage stared back. He’d blown his nose several times and scrubbed his face, but he still looked terrible. Grimacing, he leaned his forehead on the cool pane of glass. Locking himself inside and sprawling on the floor to starve to death was an option, but Ren was still waiting in the living room. He washed his face one more time, then reluctantly left.

Ren glanced over at him, but said nothing. Keeping him in his peripheral vision, Goro trudged over to the couch and sat back down on the far end, well away from him.

“I’m--sorry--about all that,” he mumbled, brushing his hair back. “I’m sorry I’m such a worthless mess.”

“You’re not worthless,” Ren insisted gently, pulling himself closer. “I’ll agree you’re a mess though. Like, damn.” He slipped a hand around Goro’s waist. “But I like that about you.”

A smile ghosted across his lips. That was just like Ren to say. It did make him feel a little better, though. He’d tried for two hopeless hours to sleep last night, obsessing over what Futaba had told him about how Ren had figured him out from the very started. Wondering if Ren, like his father, had never respected him. If he was just a joke to him, a patsy to indulge until he had wrung all usefulness or perhaps simply entertainment from him. Eventually, he’d given up on sleep and thrown himself into the only thing he could think of to do, the project that had taken him all night and day. The sole thing he could conceive of to redeem himself to Ren.

When Ren had refused to even entertain that and told him to sleep, he was just so upset. He’d surprised even himself when he lashed out at him earlier. But now it was easier to believe him. He was worried about him, huh… He leaned on him, and Ren pulled him closer.

“Do you really think it’s all going to be okay?” Goro wondered quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve committed so many counts of murder. I’ve aided and abetted a conspiracy to control Tokyo and eventually all of Japan. I’ve actively made the lives of you and all of your friends worse. I’m a fraud, a cheat, and a coward. How could things possibly turn out okay for me? Why should they? Don’t I deserve to be punished? How can you genuinely think it’ll all be okay?”

“Mmm… I dunno. Guess we’ll see for ourselves together.”

“Why do you even like me? How can you have faith in me?” he said, raw, fresh pain surging in his voice. “No matter how many times you explain it, I can’t comprehend.”

Ren stroked his hair. “Then you’re just going to have to accept it, because it’s true whether you comprehend it or not.”

A small croon sounded in Goro’s throat, first plaintive, then gradually more yearning as Ren continued to stroke his hair. It was every inch as pleasant and soothing as it had been moments ago, and this time he was in a better frame of mind to enjoy it.

God, he loved him. His face ached, his head ached, his body ached, his chest ached, every piece of his body creaked with a different kind of pain and all of them spoke of how much, against all reason, he adored his former enemy. Ren’s touch made him want to unravel. His smile made him want to dissolve. If only he could forget everything and stay here with him forever.

He loosed a long sigh and slowly pulled away, fingertips lingering on Ren’s chest. Ren let him go, but turned his hands around to take Akechi’s into his own. And that was so nice too, the way their fingers interlocked like they were meant for each other. Like destiny itself had brought and bound them together. Akechi looked up at his smile, and his heart fluttered even as it squeezed agonizingly tight. When Ren stroked his face, he shut his eyes and layered a hand over Ren’s. It would so easy to lean back in and let whatever happened happen.

So, slowly, gently, he eased the rest of the way away, out of Ren’s touch, away from his warmth. Ren didn’t chase after him, but when Akechi opened his eyes, he saw his confusion.

“What’s wrong?” Ren asked.

Akechi gestured at the both of them. “This is.”

Ren looked down, then up. “You mean us?”

He nodded. “It isn’t right,” he croaked. “Doing this behind Haru-san’s back. It isn’t right or fair to her.”

Ren stared at him, lips parting slightly. They drew Akechi’s eye. He wondered how they felt--if they would be soft, or firm, or… He shook his head and forced his attention back up. When Ren reached for him, he reared back out of his reach and sat back down on the end of the couch.

“You know, there’s nothing wrong with getting a hug from a friend,” he said quietly, lowing his arm. “Or getting comfort when you’re upset. There’s nothing inherently romantic about what we were just doing.”

Akechi took a deep breath in through his nose, out through his mouth. “Amamiya. I may have only superficial experience at best with relationships, but even I know one doesn’t look at one’s just-friends like that. Let’s not lie to ourselves about this.”

Ren gazed at him for a long moment. Then he averted his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He paused, and looked back up. “I’m kind of surprised. I didn’t think--I didn’t realize you cared about how Haru felt.”

A brief, bitter laugh dropped from his lips. What could he really say to that? “You thought I was a bad person,” he decided on.

“Hey, I didn’t say that--”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not accusing you. It’s the truth. I am a bad person. I understand that now.”

Ren opened his mouth, possibly to tell a bald-faced lie like you’re not a bad person, then shut it. Maybe he realized how obviously false that was. But then, tone gentle, he asked, “If you’re such a bad person, why do you care about her opinion after all?”

“Amamiya, I don’t want to be a bad person. I don’t want to be my father’s son,” he snapped, miserable as he was heated. He clutched his face with one hand. “Maybe I can’t escape what I am, but that doesn’t mean I have to embrace it, either.”

“Then what do you want? For us?”

“What I want doesn’t matter. Acting according to what I want is what ruined everything in the first place,” he muttered bitterly. Then he made the mistake of meeting Ren’s gaze.

His eyelashes were so long and delicate, and the dark gray of his concerned eyes drew him in so deep. Akechi ached to lean in after all. He didn’t. He’d already asked for too much tonight. Today. God, what time was it? He rubbed his face.

“Never mind. I’m rambling,” he murmured. “You’re right. I should take a nap.”

“Want me to read you a bedtime story?” Ren offered. He smiled as he said it, so he was probably joking, but Goro paused.

“…Would you?” he asked in a tiny voice.

Ren blinked. Then he nodded.

It was foolish. It was childish. But it made him happy.

“Any requests?” he asked as he stood.

Goro watched him weave around the couch and walk up to the bookshelves. “Night on the Galactic Railroad.”

“Nice. I like that one too.”

He smiled, comforted, and made himself get up to head to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, once Goro had tucked himself into bed, Ren pulled up a chair and sat next to him, Kenji Miyazawa’s last work in hand. At his bedside, his phone was set to ring an alarm in another two hours so he could meet up with Haru. Ren smiled at him again, wonderfully, beautifully. Goro smiled back, head sinking into his pillow, eyelids already drifting shut. Just having Ren nearby set Goro at ease.

His voice smooth, deep, and reassuring, Ren read: “‘“So you see, boys and girls, that is why some have called it a river, while others see a giant trace left by a stream of milk. But does anyone know what really makes up this hazy-white region in the sky?” The teacher pointed up and down the smoky white zone of the Milky Way that ran across a huge black starmap suspended from the top of the blackboard. He was asking everybody in the class…’”

Dear God, please look into my heart, and in the next life, don’t let me throw away my life in vain…

If I could be like Scorpio and do something for the benefit of all people, I wouldn’t care if my body burnt up a hundred times over.

The high-pitched beep of his phone alarm jolted Akechi from sleep, and he flailed and fumbled and turned on the lamp and turned off the alarm. The light was already failing, and he had a text from Haru asking him if they were still on for tonight. It’d arrived less than five minutes ago, according to the time stamp. He fumbled in a groggy affirmative, then swept off his covers.

Ren was gone. But the chair he’d sat in, reading to him, was still there, and Night on the Galactic Railroad left on it. Akechi brushed his hair back and picked it up gently. After a moment of admiring the cover, he hugged it close.

“Campanelren Amanomiyagawa,” he said aloud, and laughed to himself.

His feelings settled for the time being, he returned the novel to its spot on his bookshelves with care. Then he washed his face and hair, threw on a coat, slugged down an energy drink and tossed its remains in the trash, and hurried out to meet up with Haru.

“Welcome, arbiters of divine justice!” Shadow Ooe boomed from the pulpit, beaming at Crow and Noir as they crossed the cathedral threshold. “I do so appreciate your promptness. These are trying times, but they are made somewhat less so by the decisive action of the allies of God!”

“Trying times indeed,” Crow replied, because that was the one part he genuinely agreed with. At least his call to Ooe in the real world had worked. “Have you had any hints of intruders, Your Holiness?”

Shadow Ooe grimaced. “Not yet… but the Phantom Thieves will come. God has granted me a revelation. I know it is so.”

Crow half-smiled. “God is wise,” he intoned, the sarcasm intangible. “We still have time to set a trap for those accursed Phantom Thieves, then. Where is your Treasure? My protégée and I will need to inspect it and its protections.”

“Of course, of course. Come with me.”

Crow and Noir shared a nod. So far so good. They strode up to Shadow Ooe, then followed him up to the stained glass window depicting ‘God.’ Crow glared up at the divine depiction of his abusive father and yellow bile seemed to rise in his throat. Revolting. But then, what was God but the abusive Father of the human race? What kind of loving parent banished His children for learning and exploring? Not for the first time, he was glad his mask covered his entire face.

An ornate, even ostentatious golden key glinted in the light as Shadow Ooe pulled it from his sleeve and inserted it in a discreet hole in the center of the stained glass window. He twisted it, and the window halves parted like elevator doors--exactly like elevator doors, in fact, with an old-fashioned wrought iron car inside awaiting the three of them. Crow, Noir, and Shadow Ooe boarded it, and the doors shut them in.

It was a tense, silent ride. When they reached the top, Shadow Ooe led the way out, then over to a single flight of stairs leading upward. Beyond that was a heady view: the massive bell over the clocktower, and mist curling beyond the expanses of the cathedral in all directions. It was a long, long way down. Noir, after inspecting this, clutched his left wrist. He pretended not to notice. How was he supposed to respond to that?

He opened his mouth to ask where the Treasure was. However, insight struck, and he gripped the edge of the bell and pulled it up for them all to see what was within. There--yes--instead of a pendulum, was the shining light of an unsolidified Treasure.

“Clever,” he remarked to Shadow Ooe. “But not clever enough to outwit a phantom thief.” He gestured towards the four open arches that surrounded the bell. “At the very least, you should have locked fences to close off these potential points of access.”

“Agreed,” Noir spoke up. Her voice barely quavered. “Even if you have traps along the side of the tower, it’s dangerous to have a way to get in that you cannot effectively guard. Besides, this tower the most eye-grabbing point of the cathedral. It’s the first place anyone would assume a Treasure is kept.”

“Your insight is most appreciated, black-masked ones,” Shadow Ooe said, bowing his head. “There are indeed traps all up the clocktower, both within and without, but we are against infidels who defiled even the personal sanctum of God. One cannot be too careful.”

Noir reached out to the Treasure, but paused before actually touching it. “May I?” she asked the Shadow.

He hesitated. Crow kept his mouth shut. That was going further than he personally would have dared, but maybe Noir, as a woman, would be able to get away with it. Rotten old men like Ooe thought of women as inherently harmless. Even seeing her power might not have changed that.

“Be careful with it,” he finally said.

Noir nodded, then reached up both hands and took it. Crow carefully let the bell down as she pulled it out and turned around for each of them to see. According to Morgana, a Treasure shouldn’t solidify until the Palace-holder felt direct, immediate threat, but this coalesced into a gilded bible titled The Holy Word in spiraling Roman letters. Ooe’s paranoia was no doubt to thank.

“My!” Noir breathed, cracking it open and leafing through the pages with care. The pages, too, had been edged in gold leaf and written with painstaking calligraphy. “This truly is worthy of being called a Treasure. I’ve rarely seen a text so exquisitely bound.”

Shadow Ooe’s robed chest puffed with pride. “Beauty recognizes beauty,” he praised her, smile indulgent. It rapidly darkened into a vile scowl. “To even imagine those filthy phantom thieves laying their Godless paws on it… Unspeakable!”

She smiled sweetly. “How horrible that would be,” she replied, turning another page. “It’s fortunate we’re here, is it not?”

“You have no more need to fear, Your Holiness,” Crow added, smirking. “Entrust everything to us.”

“Will you stay here and guard it personally, then?” the Shadow demanded.

He shook his head. “There’s no need. Set up a fake Treasure, and move the real one elsewhere to a location known only to the three of us. We’ll use the clocktower to lure the Phantoms into a trap, then fell them all in one blow.” Crow laughed coldly. “I do hope you utilize superior cleaning services. The gears may get a bit… messy.”

Noir shot him a gape of shock and revulsion. He looked her in the eye and laughed again, this time with Shadow Ooe, and discreetly gestured for her to join in. She managed it, if stilted and wooden, but Shadow Ooe either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“I have a superb idea for the new hiding place, then,” the Shadow declared, golden eyes glinting with perverse excitement. “Even if the Phantom Thieves realize the deception and locate the new location, there will be nothing they can do!”

“Oh? Show us,” Crow said.

And so he did, after having Noir return the Treasure to him. They left behind the bell tower, descended the elevator, and departed not in the main hall, but in a baroque torture chamber. Next to him, Noir stiffened. Crow couldn’t blame her. Even he had thought it an unnerving sight the first time he’d beheld it.

On racks, spikes, chains, boards, and thumbscrews of all shape and type were cognitions wailing for mercy and receiving none from their Shadow clergy guard. Unlike the flock of sheep upstairs, these were clearly undesirables: dirty, ill-clothed, sick, and so on. Some of them were coded criminals (indeed, there was a greater prevalence of thieves than the last time Crow had been here), and some were coded as sex workers, but the rest had simply committed the cardinal sin of being poor and unwanted. Five years ago, perhaps one of these cognitions would have been made in his own image.

“Disgusting,” Shadow Ooe sneered, curling his lip at the torture victims, hand on a blackened steel fence that overlooked the torture basement. “These are the poison of society. Filthy layabouts, whining for handouts instead of working respectably as God’s children should. At least here they can serve as a warning for those who dare to stray from the path.” He brightened as he turned to Noir. “Wouldn’t you say, black-masked one?”

“Quite,” she said tightly, stare rooted on a heavily pregnant cognition hanging from the ceiling by her ankles. “The very sight of them makes me sick to my stomach.”

The Shadow cackled. “There are no end to their ilk, so by all means, purge them from this world! In the name of Our Lord, I invite you to visit divine punishment upon them!”

Crow shot them both a sharp glance. Was Shadow Ooe testing her? Even if he wasn’t, Noir looked on the verge of exploding at him. It was fine if she exploded in general--he certainly understood how she felt--but she needed to aim her rage properly or she’d ruin everything.

“Allow me to begin,” he thus declared, taking a large step forward. “It’s a master’s duty to show his protégée how it’s done.” He caught Noir’s eye, then called, “Persona!!”

Loki flared into existence above him, wreathed in darkness. He raised his claws and an orange-edge blade, then swung it at a downward diagonal; sword-slashes from nowhere materialized over half of the torture room’s cognitions, cleaving them in half. Their screams warbled through the room as their forms burst apart into semi-liquid darkness. Crow gave Noir a curt nod. Teeth grit so tight he worried she might crack them, she slammed her heel on the steel rail.

“PERSONA!!” she snarled, and Milady came. From her hoop skirts rained leaden death, booms resounding through the chambers and tearing through the remaining half of cognitions as well as any Shadow clergy guards who dared remain in the open. When she was done, her panting echoed in a room with only the three of them left.

“Your protégée shows no lack of enthusiasm,” Shadow Ooe remarked to Crow, amused. “The future of this nation is bright.”

Crow grabbed Noir by the wrist before she could whirl all the way on the Shadow. “Indeed. We are the ones who will make it bright,” he stated, careful to keep any emotion or inflection from his tone. When Noir fixed her murder eyes on him, he held her stare and released her. Thankfully, that did the trick; her hostility didn’t decrease, but she did gain a certain frosty composure. He gave her a slight nod in return. As long as she kept herself under control, it was fine.

From there, he had Shadow Ooe show them the new hiding place. It turned out to be beneath the ‘blood’ drain in the center of the torture chamber. The pit underneath was straightforwardly deadly: barbed, hooked spikes lined the walls and floor. Another special key unlocked the mechanism that kept the drain cover. Shadow Ooe kindly gave Crow a copy of this key, too.

The Shadow then called his clergy. The survivors returned to do his bidding. At the end of it, the once-more ambiguously formed Treasure hung deep in the pit, nestled just inside the spikes in a cradle of steel thread.

“Brilliant,” Crow deadpanned. “But what will you do when you need to remove it? The Phantom Thieves will not be a threat for much longer, and it would be a disgrace to keep the Treasure here in the company of heathens for longer than it must.”

“That much I shall keep to myself for the time being,” Shadow Ooe replied to him and Noir. “Your only roles for now are to destroy those damnable thieves and protect my Treasure.”

“Then when the Phantom Thieves issue a calling card, we shall return for the final confrontation,” Crow stated. “Is this agreeable, Your Holiness?”

Shadow Ooe didn’t look happy about that, but he said, “Hrmph. Very well.”

“Understood,” Noir stated, voice flat. “Then if we’re done here, please excuse us.”

She hardly waited for his consent. Shadow Ooe had clergy guards show the two of them out the dungeon’s main entrance; from there, they left the cathedral together. Reality warped back in around them, but Haru maintained her brisk stride until the two had crossed the street away from the Diet Building.

Once they were in a more isolated spot, she whirled on him, knuckles white. “I understand completely how you feel now,” Haru hissed, low and furious.

Akechi eyed her, easing back an inch. “How so?”

“If I’d been on my own, I’d want to kill those filthy, evil old men, too.”

He paused. Quite despite himself, a faint but sincere smile tugged up the corners of his mouth.

“How could you tolerate it?” she added, this time a demand. “Listening to those awful things he said? Seeing the hideous way he views the public? Addressing him with such respect even so? How are you able to pretend it doesn’t infuriate you? And from everything I know about you, it must, so don’t you dare deny it!”

“I had no intentions of denying it,” he replied. “It’s a matter firstly of experience, and secondly of keeping in mind what I have to gain by keeping calm. Anyway, you should understand it already. You have a lifetime of experience bowing your head to repugnant men yourself.”

She bowed her head, teeth grit. “I do. And I hate it. But you’re not as passive as I used to be. You took action of your own accord and made yourself, by yourself, what you are now.”

He averted his eyes. “I was only able to do that because I gained the power of Persona,” he replied, lowering his voice. “Before then, I was as bitter and helpless as you were.”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then she stepped close and gripped him by the lapels of his school uniform. He stiffened in surprise, but she didn’t berate or hit him; she simply stood close, trembling with emotion. Wh-what was this weird intimacy? A powerful impulse to hold her surged in him, and his hands were almost on her waist before he mastered it.

“H-Haru-san?” he managed instead, arms hovering in place. “If you stay like that, anyone who spots us will get the wrong impression…”

She shook her head. Then she locked eyes with him. “Come with me to my house.”

He blinked. Wow. Okay. There was something about her when she was this forceful. It reminded him of Ren’s calm, reassuring, damnably vexing confidence, but that torch of violent anger that blazed in her glare… It was--no, surely not alluring. Reassuring? It made him feel like he’d found a kindred spirit. Like he was neither evil nor alone.

Something in his chest ached at the concept. Never mind for the moment that Haru hated him for killing her father. Akechi had known about the Okumuras long, long before Ren had ever encountered either of them. If he hadn’t insisted on walking this path alone… if fate had decreed that Haru’s path should intersect with his sooner… would he perhaps have had his own teammate?

His eyes lidded. He forced one hand back to his side and brushed his hair back with the other. “All right,” he conceded.

Chapter Text

“This is cozy,” Akechi observed with a touch of wariness, looking around the small but homily furnished attic.

As promised, Haru had brought him to, of all places, her home. Yet rather than hosting him in any one of the lounge rooms downstairs, she’d guided him to the top floor, then pulled down a wooden stepladder from a trapdoor in the ceiling and guided him up. He hadn’t thought this would be a friendly visit, all considered, but he did wonder fleetingly if he was about to be chopped up in her murder attic.

That ridiculous thought fled him the moment he actually saw the room. The floors and walls were all wood, and the ceiling was barely high enough for him to stand without hitting his head. The floor had a spiral rug that looked hand-woven, and on it rested a round coffee table, decorated with a doily and an antique lamp, surrounded by two semi-circular plush chairs. Past them was a curtained bay window; the windowsill was low enough and long enough that someone might be able to sit there if they so desired. The many faded cushions implied someone had indeed desired at some point.

The only other furniture was a short cupboard on which sat an antique phonograph. It was just as well, because there was little other space. The walls were decorated with photos and posters and illustrated recipes from around the world, many in languages he didn’t know. The room had been recently dusted, which probably didn’t happen often since it was at the top of a pull-down ladder. A tray had been left on the coffee table, and on that, a pot of tea and two teacups. Steam wafted from the spout, so it must have been left there a short while ago, possibly after the dusting was complete. Despite the winter chill outside, the attic was nice and warm.

Haru shut the trap door and crouched in front of the cupboard, pulled out a record, and set it on the phonograph to play. It crackled, then played soothing jazz. She stood and scooted over to the right-hand chair. Once she seated herself, she looked up and gestured for him to sit across from her. Uncertain though he was, Akechi did as she silently requested.

“When my father had this mansion built, he made sure to have this room included,” she murmured, just audible over the music, as she poured tea for each of them. The scent was lovely, though Akechi was better acquainted with coffee. “He used to tell me about how he and my mother, back when she was alive, spent their free time here together, listening to music and chatting about food. Apparently, it’s modeled after the café where they first met. After Mother passed away, Father brought me here instead and told me all sorts of stories about her… though that was only when I was young.”

“I see,” Akechi said, though he didn’t really. He accepted the cup and saucer Haru pushed his way, then took a sip. It was good. Delicious, even. Haru had excellent house staff. “And you brought me here, why?”

“Because it’s private. Besides the pull-down ladder being the only entrance, there’s also thick insulation around the whole room—originally so my parents could listen to their music without any noise interference, but later so my father could, presumably, make backroom deals right here without anyone listening in.” Haru sipped her own tea, then frowned. “I might not have been able to eavesdrop, but I certainly noticed when Father brought his business associates here.”

Ah. Now he understood. “In other words, it’s the perfect spot to discuss what it feels like to commit murder with a former professional hitman.”

“Ever the master detective,” Haru replied with only a hint of sarcasm. “You’re quick on the uptake.”

Ignoring the barb, he took another sip, then set the cup and saucer down and folded his hands. They’d agreed to discuss the time for this later, but after yesterday’s realization, it was a relief that she’d demanded this conversation right now. He honestly didn’t want to go home and be left alone with himself. Maybe this way, he could figure out what he could do for Haru, too. “Ask away, then.”

She didn’t respond right away, instead taking a moment to savor her tea. He supposed she enjoyed making him wait. Well, it was fine. The ambiance was pleasant, and the music euphonious. He could easily see how a couple might wile away the hours in here.

At last, Haru set her drink down. “I’m sorry. I’m actually a little nervous, to tell you the truth,” she murmured, gaze down, expression turning reluctant. “It feels like… asking you about this due to my own personal interest is breaching some line of appropriateness.”

He almost laughed. She was worried about that now? “You already brought me here. You may as well.”

She took a deep breath. “True. Then… please tell me what it’s like to kill someone.”

He leaned his head on the plush chair’s back. Good thing he’d only had coffee and tea today; moderate nausea was fluttering at the pit of his stomach. The conversation with Futaba had cracked open a dam and flooded him with guilt and self-loathing. It had ebbed a bit thanks to Ren and Haru, but just thinking about the topic had him drowning again. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves. If he was doing this, at least he could be composed about it. He didn’t want to fall to pieces and end up crying his eyes out again.

“If you’ve done it right, it feels like nothing at all,” he replied, keeping his tone conversational. As if the topic were no weightier than one of the weather. “It’s an unpleasant task that nonetheless needs doing, like taking the garbage out to the curb, and you give it no more thought once it’s done.”

“‘Needs’?”

“Well, I am an assassin. Or was, rather. You’d get a different perspective from other types of killers, I expect.”

Haru made a discomfited noise. “What about… if you haven’t done it right?”

“If you haven’t… if you’ve gotten caught up emotionally in the target…” He hesitated, memories skating through the interrogation room. “No, no, that’s not what I meant to say,” he amended. “I meant, ah, when you let emotion register at all… well, it depends, really. Mm.” He paused. “Pardon me. I’m not explaining this well. Let me start over.

“Let me clarify first that I can only speak to my own experiences, so please don’t think what I say is universal. Now then, across my career, I’ve felt three primary reactions to ending a life. Everything I’ve felt has been a variation of one or more of them. The first, I already mentioned: nothing in particular. Just an unpleasant but necessary chore. Reacting this way is a matter of significant mental training, however. It’s the sort of thing you could only accomplish if you’re used to killing. I imagine soldiers in more militaristic countries might feel this way, too.”

“It’s a little scary,” Haru remarked, pale-faced. “I’d rather feel something than… nothing.”

A brief, humorless smile darted across Akechi’s face. “I disagree severely. But that’s neither here nor there.”

“No, I want to hear more about that,” Haru insisted, frowning. “Why is it better to feel nothing, in your opinion?”

Ah. She really was going there, wasn’t she? He took another sip of his tea, partly to wet his throat, partly to arrange his thoughts. Haha, this really was strange. It was almost like he was being interviewed at the end of a long and bloody career.

“Feeling nothing,” he said as he set his cup back down, “is how one can function. To the world at large, I’m—well, a celebrity, and an ace detective at that, but fundamentally a normal human being. But committing serial murder is fundamentally abnormal in our society. It can’t help but affect one’s state of mind. Having no particular reaction to something like ending a human being’s life is how one can reconcile these contradictions. We all have to do unpleasant, menial, but necessary chores for our daily lives.”

Her frown deepened, but she didn’t interrupt.

“Thinking of it like that allows me to go through each day as if I am normal. You don’t think all day, every day, about the garbage piling up and how you need to remove it, correct? You only think about it when you need to. It’s like that. Feeling nothing makes it easier to compartmentalize that aspect of my life, which in turn makes it easier to carry on day to day.”

“May I say that it’s extremely inappropriate to keep referring to human lives as garbage?” Haru asked, reprove sharpening her voice.

“Yes. That’s the point, though. Dehumanizing the victim is what lets one kill with ease. I would venture most of the mental shutdown requests I carried out went down like this.”

She pursed her lips. Then she nodded once. “I see. I think I understand better now.” Her lashes drooped. “If I hadn’t already known about your ‘side job,’ I would never have guessed you were a serial killer. That compartmentalization is how, isn’t it?”

He nodded back. “It’s easier still when the victims are bad people. The death penalty is already part of our legal system, so even normal society is familiar with the idea of punishing the worst kinds of criminals by killing them. From there, it’s just a matter of viewing it as cutting the red tape.”

“And then you also get to see yourself as the ‘savior’ of society, isn’t that right?” Haru sniped.

Akechi flinched, stomach churning. Would the tea settle it or make it worse? He decided not to risk it. “I used the term ‘hero,’” he mumbled.

Her face twisted with disgust, and she heaved a sigh. “A true hero would never do what you’ve done.”

He shut his eyes, thoughts sucked back to his conversation with Futaba, and said nothing.

A long, awkward silence followed. Eventually, Haru sighed again, softer than before.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I stand by the spirit of what I said, but it isn’t fair of me to berate you when you’re just answering my questions. Please continue.”

He brushed his hair back with one hand, taking a moment to gather himself mentally. “I suppose the topic of punishing the wicked does bring me to my second basic reaction. There are two types of heroes, you know: those who prioritize protecting the innocent, and those who prioritize defeating villains. You can’t really call yourself a hero if you have no interest at all in protecting the innocent, but at the same, you can’t protect anyone if you allow evil to rampage unchecked.” He stared out the bay window. “Robin Hood’s form should tell you as much, but I loved heroes as a child. I admired and respected them. In time, I aspired to be like them.”

“I did too,” Haru murmured.

Akechi startled. Her expression had a bittersweet quality he didn’t know how to interpret. Who could have guessed she’d relate to him like this? Unsure of what to make of it, he cleared his throat and pressed on. “I was never pure enough to be a Superman or a Pretty Cure. I always had too much anger and resentment in me to possess that kind of selflessness. Yet those are the ones people admire the most, aren’t they? It’s not just their strength, but their kindness, too. They’re the ones who inspire people to dream. So I wanted to be a hero—and if I couldn’t be the first type for real, I could at least pretend to be on the surface. That way, I could achieve the respect and admiration I craved.

“Or so I believed, anyway.”

He breathed out a long sigh. His stomach had calmed; he took another sip of tea. Was it wise to really go into all this with her? As far as she was considered, this all must be off-topic. She was probably bored, impatient for him to get to the point. Yet… looking at her, she didn’t seem so. He wasn’t always a good read of people’s feelings, true, but he knew ‘bored’ vs. ‘interested’ keenly well.

“Should I skip ahead?” he decided to ask. “This must seem like nonsense to you.”

“No, not at all,” she replied promptly. “I wanted to understand you better, and this is helping me do precisely that.”

Really? he wondered—but by all appearances, she was sincere. Despite himself, he smiled. He drained his teacup and set it down with a chuckle. As she poured him more, he asked, “Does it feel good to you to indulge me talking about my inner self?”

She frowned. “Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “I’m not criticizing you. I’m making a point. Everyone is fundamentally like that, don’t you agree? You do nice things for others because it makes you feel good about yourself. Even the most selfless person experiences that. One could argue that those we’d typically think of as selfless get the most out of feeling good for doing good deeds, because that’s their sole reward.”

“You shouldn’t do good deeds for a reward, though,” Haru argued.

“That’s what society tells us. ‘Virtue is its own reward’ and all that. Yet when you do something nice for someone with no expectation of anything in return, do you feel nothing? Not the slightest buzz of pleasure when you see them happy because of your actions? Doesn’t it disappoint you if they don’t react, or upset you if they’re ungrateful?”

“W-well…”

“Punishing the wicked is the flip side of that. But then, I barely need to explain that to you, do I? You and your friends know the sense of accomplishment that comes with defeating the Shadows of bad people.”

Haru hesitated.

“Killing those Shadows is a step beyond that,” he continued evenly, mercilessly. “You know how they love to prattle on with all kinds of excuses for their behavior. And haven’t you ever met someone you wanted to shut up with your own two hands?” He smirked, albeit without amusement. “You’re talking to one right now, I’d wager.”

She pursed her lips and said nothing.

“There’s an immense feeling of power when you end the life of someone like that. It’s intoxicating… and addictive. Especially when you’re someone who’s always felt weak or disenfranchised.” He gave her a knowing look. “The sense that you’re on top when you’ve always been on bottom—of getting to decide who lives and who dies—is an exquisite rush.” He paused. Then he shut his eyes. “…And as long as I could convince myself that I was in the right and these murders served a greater purpose, then I didn’t need to feel guilty.”

“Akechi-kun…” she murmured, tone troubled.

He drank again and gazed down at his cup. “That’s how it works. Once you find the justification that works, you can tell yourself whatever you need to in order to keep going. Someone who got off on being the arbiter of life and death might develop a divinity complex and declare himself the god of a new world.” He flashed her a bitter, humorless smile. “I wasn’t quite that bad, but… well, you saw how I was. For me, it was reassuring myself that my victims deserved it. That I was the hero, and anyone who opposed me was the enemy and therefore merited death. As long as I could maintain that state of mind, murder made me feel—”

Good, echoed in his mind. His jaw clenched. During the battle in Shido’s Palace, he’d sneered at Joker and his friends that their heart-changes and his murders made them the same. In the next breath, or maybe the one before, he’d screamed, Justice? Righteous? Keep that shit to yourselves!

Of course he knew better. He wasn’t delusional. As much as he’d argued to himself that completely changing someone’s personality was no better than snuffing them out, he knew it wasn’t the same. But he had to believe they weren’t any better than him. Because by any metric, getting a rush from committing murder was sick.

Futaba really was right. Who the hell needed to be told that killing people was wrong? He knew it the whole time. He just pretended he didn’t so he could keep up his moral superiority. How despicable.

He grimaced at himself, then glanced over at Haru. Though he hadn’t finished his sentence, she wasn’t dumb; she’d be able to guess the last word. Far from the disgusted glare he anticipated, though, she instead was staring into space, gaze unfocused. He began to wonder if she’d tuned him out, but then she blinked over at him.

“And my father was one of the ones who deserved it?” she said quietly.

He blinked. Then he glanced away, uncomfortable. On some levels, her bleakness was even worse than her fury.

After a moment, she added, “Thank you for your honesty. I think I understand much better now.”

He wondered what her understanding was. He decided he’d rather not know. What bitter irony; he thought he might feel better if he got all this off his chest, but the more he dwelt on it, the deeper his revulsion at himself became. “Then if we’re done here…” he murmured, rising.

She looked up at him. “What about the third thing?”

He paused. “Pardon?”

“The third reaction. You only got through the second.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he settled back down and leaned his head back on his seat. “What do you think it is?”

“I-I don’t know… I couldn’t begin to imagine.”

“You couldn’t, could you…” He sighed. “I don’t really want to discuss this anymore, so I’ll give it to you straight: it’s self-hatred.”

“…What?”

“When I can’t compartmentalize away what I’ve done—when I can’t convince myself that I was in the right—then I’m left with the reality that I just killed an innocent human being.” He hid half his face with one hand. “…I really did want to be a hero, Haru-san. I wanted to be loved, needed, and admired. When someone like that looks down at their hands and sees them stained red, how else do you think they’d feel?”

“Akechi-kun…”

“Surely you must be satisfied by now,” he mumbled, hand sliding down. “It’s exactly what you’ve always hoped I would admit, isn’t it?”

“Which… victim… made you feel like that?”

Ah. Yes. Of course that wouldn’t be enough. She’d want him to say it. He shut his eyes. This was so exhausting. So exhausting. He just wanted to go home and sleep forever. But she deserved this. They both did. “Wakaba Isshiki.”

“…Futaba-chan’s mother.”

“Yes.”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then, quietly: “I might be mistaken, but… didn’t she die two years ago? That means she must have been among your first victims.”

“The third, to be precise.”

“If you really did regret killing her, and you were so early in your, um… side job… why didn’t you stop there?”

“Stop?” He stared at her, incredulous. “So you’re saying I should have killed an innocent person for nothing?”

She blinked, stunned. “What?”

“That’s what it means to kill for your goal and then just stop : everyone you’ve ever murdered died a meaningless death.” He rammed his head back onto the chair’s back cushion. “By the time I realized I’d gone too far, it was already too late to turn back. Now my revenge had to be worth it. Every drop of blood I’d spilled. Every drop I would spill. Otherwise, what did I make a young girl watch her mother die for?”

In the moment that followed, the record’s music spun to a gentle halt. Haru coughed discreetly into a fist. Then she got up to remove the record from the player. Akechi stared at the wooden ceiling.

Nothing. He’d made Futaba watch her mother die for absolutely nothing.

He grit his teeth as his face twisted. Tears sheared through his defenses before he could have any hope of holding them back. They poured down as he hid his face in full and sobbed.

Haru had selected a record of Bach’s sonatas when she heard Akechi start to weep. She half-turned in surprise and alarm to see him crying into his hands. The sight and sound were heartrendingly sincere; his teeth grit and his sobs hitched, as if he were trying to hold it all back but couldn’t.

What did I make a young girl watch her mother die for? he’d asked, and then broke down in tears. Because he knew the answer, and so did she.

For several moments, she stood there and watched him. Then she slipped the record back into its sleeve and returned it to its spot. Footfalls quiet, she returned to the table, but this time sat on the love seat next to Akechi. He jerked back in wobbly-eyed surprise. Then he wobbled and slumped to one side, as if dizzy. She caught him before he could fall and, without thinking about it, drew him into her arms.

Initially, he froze up. Then he sobbed anew, even fiercer than before, and held her back tight. “Haru-san, I’m sorry…” he choked into her shoulder. “It doesn’t matter what my excuses were. I never had a right to take your father from you. I can never make up for it… I can’t make up for any of this. How can anyone atone for taking a life, let alone all the ones I did? It’s impossible. I don’t know what to do. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”

Haru said nothing as he dissolved back into wordless crying. It was the apology she’d wanted all along, yet it didn’t make her at all happy.

After an eternity, his crying tapered off. He pulled away. She let him go with reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again, voice thick, as he pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned his face. “That was unfair of me. You shouldn’t have to listen to my whining. Please ignore all that. How I can atone is my problem.” He wiped away the last of his tears. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask…? If there isn’t, I should go and leave you alone.”

“I… No. There isn’t,” she murmured.

“…All right.” In spite of himself, though, he paused. Then he looked at her. “Actually—there is one thing I have to ask you.”

“Wh-what’s that?”

“Would it make you happy if I were gone?”

Her heart seized up. “G-gone? What do you mean by that?”

“Gone. As in not here. As in out of your life.”

Her eyes flew wide. “Are you suggesting you mean to commit suicide?”

He smiled without humor. “No. You said it yourself: I have to live and atone.” He bowed his head, smile fading. “No, I mean if I bow out of our competition and stop associating with you and your friends.”

“I…” She trailed off before she even properly said anything. That was what she wanted. Hadn’t she said to Makoto and Futaba only days ago that she wished he’d do exactly that? Yet with the opportunity before her, the concept rattled her with distress.

“Amamiya is yours.” Akechi smiled emptily and huffed the faintest of laughs. “He’s always been yours, really. He’s too good for someone like me.”

Haru pursed her lips as her jaw clenched. It would be so simple to accept this at face value. To take the victory he offered her. To not have to worry about anything. To take the easy road.

All of her soul rebelled. To hell with the easy road.

Gripping his chin, she made him meet her glare. “I won’t have it,” she declared. “I won’t let my rival bow out and run away like a coward. Let’s settle who’ll win Ren’s heart fair and square.”

He stared at her in open astonishment. Then his expression warmed into a smile, and he laughed a little as he leaned into her touch. “Haru-san… I know it wasn’t your intent, but what you just said made me so happy.”

She brushed her thumb over his cheek, smiling back.

He glanced to one side. “Fair and square, huh. I’d like that.” He took a breath, then squared his shoulders and met her eyes again. “What did you have in mind?”

She pulled her hand away and retrieved her phone. It was well into the night, closing in on midnight, and Morgana had probably badgered him to bed by now, but she dialed Ren’s number anyway. He picked up after a few rings, and she put him on speaker phone.

“Myeah?” he mumbled sleepily on the other end.

“Sorry for waking you up, Ren,” Haru said, holding it up as she met Akechi’s quizzical stare. “There’s something I absolutely needed to ask you right away, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

“Mhm…?”

She took a deep breath. “Akechi-kun is here with me.”

“Ah, hello,” Akechi uttered.

“…and we’d like you to go on a date. With both of us, at the same time.”

Akechi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Eh??”

On the line, sheets and blankets rustled. Sounding much more awake, Ren said, “Let me get this straight. You two, want to go on a date together, with the three of us, tomorrow.”

“Yes,” Haru stated.

“Er, yes,” Akechi agreed, flustered.

“Why? I thought we were waiting until after the job was done?”

“I can’t wait that long and neither can he,” Haru said, watching her rival’s face redden. “We want to settle this once and for all. Right, Akechi-kun?”

His lips worked for a silent moment; then his gaze steeled, and he nodded once. “That’s right.”

Ren sounded amused. “Oh, really. You guys realize this is literally exactly what I want, right? For you two and me to date each other simultaneously. I mean, not every date would have to be the three of us at once, but what you’re proposing is basically my ideal.” The sound of shifting in bed. “Don’t get me wrong, Haru. I understand what you’re trying to say. You basically want this to be a competition between you and him for who can impress me the most, right?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s not how I’m going to treat it. I’m telling you both right now, if we go on a date as a polycule, I’m going do my best to ignore anything either of you do to exclude the other and keep the three of us together. If you two can deal with that, then I’d love to go on a date, with you both, at the same time.” His voice warmed, and he purred, “Starting at, say, Akiba Station at 11:30 AM?”

She smiled, her eyes still on Akechi. “That sounds wonderful.”

He huffed out a breath. “Yes, let’s do that.”

“Great!” Ren cheered. “See you two then. I already can’t wait.”

The line disconnected. Haru put her phone away, her smile growing.

Akechi was smiling too by now. “You’re bold,” he remarked. “You’ve come a long way from the person you used to be.”

She giggled as she felt her face heat. “Thank you.”

His gaze softened. Though his face was still somewhat blotchy and his eyes still rimmed red, he looked much nicer this way. She lifted a hand, hesitating only briefly, to touch him again. His lips parted and eyes widened as she caressed his face, but he did nothing to stop her.

Perhaps that made her bolder still, because she then ordered, “Stay here tonight.”

“What?” he uttered. “Here? In your house?”

“I have plenty of guest rooms, and someone can launder your uniform for you overnight, so a change of clothes isn’t a problem.”

“Th-that’s not what I… Isn’t that inappropriate?”

She smiled. She understood what he meant, on multiple levels. Even so: “It’s late, and we have a date tomorrow. I want to fight my rival at his best.”

Sure enough, he melted with a laugh. “Very well. If that’s what you wish.”

Akechi usually didn’t sleep well for a variety of reasons, and he didn’t expect to sleep well in the home of one of his victims while wearing one of said victim’s bedrobes, but he was surprised by how unbroken and even restful his slumber was. He showered, dressed in his freshly-laundered uniform, and ate breakfast with Haru. She had tea and he had coffee, and they both had a delicious omelet with toast and marmalade on the side. The winter morning light eased through the dining hall windows, and it was just so—nice. Peaceful, even. He marveled over this in silence until he’d finished eating.

“Thank you for having me for the night,” he told Haru. “But I need to head out.”

“I understand,” she replied, setting down her teacup. She smiled at him, and its beauty made him feel light and heady. “Don’t be late,” she added, teasing.

He smiled back and found himself wanting to touch her—nothing inappropriate; just to rest a hand over hers, or to brush her hair from her face. He refrained. It wouldn’t do to upset her. Or rather… he didn’t want her to be upset. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once he’d left the Okumura estate, he glanced over his shoulder, then down at his phone. He pulled up a text conversation he’d had with Dr. Takemi yesterday while he’d been out.

I scheduled the MRI for you. Sunday tomorrow at 8 AM. Don’t skip. And then directions to the correct hospital and instructions on who to ask for.

OK, he’d texted back with no intent at the time of going. Now…

Now it was a quarter past seven. He called a taxi. He’d need to hurry if he was going to make both his appointments today.

Chapter Text

The MRI went smoothly, thank god. From the sound of it, Dr. Takemi had called in quite a few favors to get it scheduled on such short notice. Akechi made a mental note to bring her a thank-you gift later. For the time being, though, he rushed home.

Once there, he prepped for the date. He’d already showered, but he needed to pick out an outfit, brush his teeth, brush and style his hair, choose a cologne, inspect his face and skin and apply lotion or foundation as necessary… And it was all necessary. He wasn’t just looking good for his would-be boyfriend; he was competing with his rival. He didn’t want to disappoint either of them.

With all the meticulous care he took, time passed so rapidly he would’ve missed his train if not for setting an alarm. Akiba Station at 11:30 AM, Ren had said, and he refused to be late. He grabbed what he’d prepared for him yesterday and hurried out.

Ren awaited him at the mouth of the station, and turned to him with a broad and radiant smile. Akechi returned it without thinking, but how could he help himself? His black hair seemed even more artfully tousled than usual, glossy and still slightly damp from—not a shower, Akechi reminded himself; he must have gone to the bathhouse next door to Leblanc. Despite this wetness, Ren apparently wasn’t cold, because he held his jacket hooked on two fingers and over one shoulder. His usual glasses were tucked into the breast pocket of his white overshirt, an untucked, unbuttoned affair with long sleeves that had been left unbuttoned at the wrists.

Under that was a black V-necked shirt with an abstract design in red on front; it tucked into dark blue skinny jeans belted at the waist. They did wonders for his long, long legs. Akechi caught himself staring and fantasizing about what it would be like to run his hands up Ren’s thighs and then all the way back down to his tightly laced sneakers.

Ren caught him, too, apparently, because his already wide grin grew even wider, a knowing, mirthful glint in his eyes. The sight alone made his head spin. (Maybe it wasn’t Ren, as Akechi’d had a handful of second-long dizzy spells lately, but still.) To try to play it off, Akechi tossed his head and brushed his bangs to one side as he approached—ahh, that was a nice cologne Ren had, now that he was close enough to smell it; smoky and a bit musky, like a log fire in a rustic midwinter hearth—but he suspected the other young man wasn’t fooled. Ren exuded casual, genuine confidence. It was enough to set Akechi’s admiration at war with his envy again. Yet this time, affection had the upper hand.

His smile deepened, and he opened his mouth to greet his—his date, and abruptly it struck him that This is really happening, I’m really about to go on a date, and with Ren Amamiya—when he heard delicate footsteps race up behind him.

“I’m here!” Haru called, out of breath, as she hurried up the steps to join them. “I’m sorry, am I late?”

God. Goro was trying to play it cool even though he’d practically just been drooling, and Ren couldn’t help but adore the dichotomy. The way he was dressed was even—

“I’m here!” Haru called then, and Ren tore his attention from Goro over to her as she ran up the subway station steps. She came to a stop, panted for a moment, and then fixed them both with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“You’re right on time, actually,” Ren replied as he took the sight of her in.

Haru was always pretty, like a ray of sunlight on an early spring morning shining down on a flower-strewn forest glade to waken a slumbering Destiny princess. Today, though, she’d kicked it up to the next level. Her adorable floofy hair was pulled up in back with a hairband set with pink silk roses, leaving behind a couple of tresses to frame her face but otherwise showing off her ears and nape. He wouldn’t have thought one could pull up hair that short. It was a surprise, and a beautiful one. Her make-up was in her usual pastels—pinks, lavenders, a hint of spring green, all colors she looked good in and that accented her eyes—but as she drew close, he caught scent that it came with an understated perfume: minty-floral, cool and warm at the same time. Intriguing.

Her wisteria-purple dress had a turtleneck collar and no sleeves, a couple of purely aesthetic buttons on the chest and a dark purple ribbon under it (he tried not to let his gaze linger on what came between, with mixed results): a style called babydoll, if he remembered his women’s fashion right. The striped skirt draped down to her slender thighs, smoothing out over tights the same color as the ribbon, over which she wore ankle-high heeled boots the same color as her dress. Her spun-sugar pink coat, which was hanging off her elbows until Haru pulled it up onto her shoulders, had a faux fur trim on the hood, sleeves, and front zipper. At least, he thought it was faux fur…? Either way, with a snow-white purse to match the trim and clinch the outfit, it all came together like, well—

“Wrong stop, though,” he said aloud. “The runway model show’s over in Shibuya.”

Haru giggled, pale cheeks turning warm red. Ren smiled back at her, reaching out to brush her side bangs back. Damn, she was so beautiful. He abruptly felt like the luckiest guy alive that she asked him out—and not just him, but Goro. Well, technically, she didn’t really ask Goro out so much as—whatever, whatever. The end result was that the three of them were here on a date, together, and no one could be happier about it than Ren.

He grinned at her and then over at Goro; Haru followed his gaze. “Ready to go?”

“Ready to go?” Ren asked Akechi.

In response, Akechi shifted from one foot to the other, one hand rising to touch his neck. That gave Haru a chance to get a proper look at him—his back at been to her when she’d hurried up to meet the two, after all.

Really, the fact that his back had been to her was probably the only reason his outfit hadn’t immediately popped out to her. It was both understated and intensely eye-grabbing at the same time. Haru didn’t know how he managed it.

Specifically, he wore a bright red hoodie with the hood up over a black baseball cap embroidered with the word HERO in glittering gold thread. Though the zipper was up, peeks at his collar and waist indicated he had a black-and-white T-shirt on underneath. Haru was amazed that she could notice it at all, though, considering the enormous and incredibly obvious gold star, framed in another gold star, on the front lower right of his hoodie. The sleeves were pushed up almost to his elbows, showing off—what a surprise—more gold, specifically a gold wristwatch on his left wrist.

His stonewashed blue jeans might almost seem normal, save that they were (purposefully? Haru wasn’t certain, but she would have bet cold hard cash it was so) ripped in various spots. They tucked into red boots that were laced up halfway to his knees. And that would be bad enough, except—how could anyone overlook it?—for his clunky gold necklace, featuring a giant, embossed, winged A emblazoned across his chest. And she’d thought the giant encircled A on his briefcase was over the top. In Haru’s opinion, he looked ridiculous. Yet instead of finding it obnoxious, like she might have even a week ago, now she found it endearing. It was just so incredibly him in a way only someone who knew his true self would understand, and it… it made her happy that she did understand him now.

One glance at Ren’s bright-eyed grin told her that he agreed.

“Yes, if you two are,” Akechi finally replied. Beneath his attempt to be cool and blasé, Haru detected a thrum of nervousness. She grinned.

“Then let’s roll,” Ren said, and the three of them started walking into Akihabara proper. Sure enough, as Haru suspected, once they were on the street, he added, “So where did you get an outfit like that, Akechi? It’s amazing.”

“Oh—you like it?” he asked, a pleased note entering his voice.

“Yeah, it’s incredible. It’s like you were trying to go incognito except you had no grasp of the concept of subtlety,” Ren replied with genuine exuberance.

“I was just thinking that myself,” Haru added brightly. “It’s an outrageous look that’s completely at odds with his normal image.”

“I know, right??” he enthused. “This outfit just screams, ‘I’m here! Look at me!’ I love it.” He beamed back at Akechi. “I feel like I’m meeting the real you for the first time.”

His mouth opened, shut. “…I can’t tell if you’re complimenting me or making fun of me.”

Ren winked. “Maybe a little of both.”

He heaved a sigh. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re gorgeous,” he shot back.

When Akechi stammered, blushed, and fell silent, Ren laughed and skipped a few steps ahead of them, walking backwards to face the two. “So hey, now that we’re here, let’s hit the electronics store. I’ve got a couple things I wanna check out. That work for you two?” They both nodded, and he beamed. “Great! Let’s go!” And then he jogged off for the store further down the block, possibly assuming they’d jog along after him.

“He has a singular talent for putting me off-balance,” Akechi remarked with a dry wistfulness, watching him go, gait actually slowing a step or two. “It’s a little frustrating.”

She swayed closer to him as she tried to speed up a hair. The scent of his cologne wafted over when she did, and it took her by surprise: with notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, and a few other things she couldn’t name, he smelled warm and inviting, like fresh-baked pie à la mode. Like someone whose arms you could just sink into and never let go.

“I know what you mean,” she thus said, looking up at him.

He met her gaze, a faint frown on his lips. His eyes reflected something more melancholy, though. “You look beautiful, Haru-san,” he remarked, completely out of nowhere.

She blinked rapidly, feeling her face heat. “I—th-thank you,” she stammered. “Your cologne smells lovely, too, Akechi-kun.”

“Oh… thank you,” he replied, eyes widening.

For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Perhaps neither of them knew what to say. Then Ren waved at them from the electronics store door, and they shared a glance, then hurried to join him.

The electronics store, as it turned out, was packed with Christmas shoppers hunting for deals. It did remind Ren that he ought to look for gifts for his friends while he had the time. Once the mission was done, he’d be going back to school and hitting the books right before getting hit by exams. At first he figured he’d do it right there, but one look at the lines for every register convinced him otherwise. Likewise, Haru took a long look over the HDTVs and video cameras, and Goro over the high-end laptops and security software, but neither actually picked up anything.

It was fun all the same though, and the three chatted about electronics as they made their way out of the crowded store. From there, Ren guided them to the arcade, which was both close by and not even a fraction as crowded.

Once inside, Haru turned her attention to the crane game. “Those dolls are so cute!” she remarked, leaning over the stuffed Jacks.

Goro looked at them too. “Hmmm… They look awfully familiar,” he mused. “I wonder if it’s a quirk of the collective unconscious that allows us to encounter these things in the real world, too.”

“You have a point,” Haru said, straightening. “It’s strange otherwise to see, well… a common stuffed toy as—” she lowered her voice, “—Shadows and demons in the Metaverse.”

“It is all perception,” Ren murmured thoughtfully, inspecting the piles of stuffed Jack Frosts and Pyro Jacks. “Makes sense that they’d take the form of what people perceive ice sprites and fire spirits to look like.”

Goro hummed. “How long do you think the Metaverse has been around?”

Ren turned to him. “What? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Oh, it just occurred to me. Futaba-san’s mother was researching it before any of us stepped foot in that realm. Don’t you think it’s possible that someone entered, saw demons, and decided to design mascots after some of the cuter ones?”

Haru held her chin. “Now that you mention it…”

Ren stared at the stuffed demon-a-likes. He wasn’t wrong. “You figure that means there might be any number of people besides us with the MetaNavi app?”

“It’s not impossible,” Goro replied. “We don’t really know anything about who made it or where it came from, do we?”

He nodded slowly, then looked his way. “How did you get it?”

“It showed up on my phone one day. You?”

“Same.”

“I got it after accidentally following Mona-chan into the Metaverse,” Haru murmured. “That’s how it was for the others besides him, right? It just… appeared after they found themselves in the other world.”

“Which they’d only be able to do by following someone who already had the app,” Goro said, glancing at Ren, “i.e. you.”

“So, what, I’m patient zero now?”

He smiled. “I certainly didn’t get it from you, so that’d make at least two of us.”

“Hm.” Ren scratched his neck. “I wonder if Igor would know.”

The reactions of his datemates were dramatic in how different they were: Haru tilted her head and wondered, “Who’s Igor?” while Goro startled and uttered, “You know Igor?”

They all stared at each other.

“Okay. This sounds like a bigger conversation than we ought to be having in an arcade,” Ren said. “How about we press pause on it until we get somewhere private?” When they nodded, he quirked a smile and gestured at the demon plushies. “So which do you two like?”

Goro blinked. “Hmm?”

“You strike me as a Jack Frost kinda guy, Akechi. Unless you’re too good for dolls?”

“They’re called action figures,” he said loftily, unable to hide a smile.

Haru clapped her hands once. “They’re both cute, but I’m personally quite partial to Pyro Jack’s air of mischief. He’s a very Halloween-y character, don’t you think?”

“That’s true,” Goro agreed. “I suppose if I had to pick one, I’d pick Jack Frost. He’s more iconic.”

Ren snorted as he pulled out a few hundred-yen coins. “Oh my god, you’re so mainstream.”

“What, and you think you aren’t?”

“I’m dark and edgy. That makes me the cool side of mainstream,” he retorted, imitating Goro’s earlier lofty tone. He put in a coin and started working the crane game’s controls.

Goro rolled his eyes. “You mean the obnoxious side of mainstream.” But he leaned in to watch anyway.

“Is being mainstream so bad?” Haru said, smiling. She lowered her voice and added, “That’s what lets us travel deeper into Mementos.” She paused, then gave Goro a curious look. “Speaking of which, how far did you ever get into it?”

“Hmm? No further than you all did.”

“No, I mean by yourself. That’s why you became famous, isn’t it?”

“That’s not the only reason… It wasn’t even a reason, really. It was just a convenient side benefit.”

“Mhm. And the TV station president pushed shows you featured on for no reason, then?”

“My reasons aren’t their reasons,” he replied, voice turning chill.

Subdued: “True. I’m sorry, that was out of line.”

Goro said nothing for a moment. Then he murmured, “It’s fine. I did benefit from it, after all. Anyway, to answer your question: not far enough to find anything interesting. Why?”

“I was just wondering how your ‘mainstreamness’ affected how far you could go.”

“Not enough, it seems. Of course, we don’t know if Mementos even has a bottom. For all we know, it goes on like that endlessly.”

“Mona-chan says it has a bottom.”

“Can you really trust the assertions of an amnesiac, though? Don’t look at me like that, I’m not trying to insult him. I’m just saying, even if he’s right, how does he know that?”

“Well…”

The tooting and whistling of the crane game interrupted the two as Ren grinned and pumped a fist in triumph. Not one but two plushies tumbled down and landed in the retrieval area. He fetched them both and turned to his datemates.

“For Akechi, because you’re so cool,” he said, handing him the Jack Frost doll. The Pyro Jack, he offered to Haru. “And for Haru, because you’re so hot.”

They both accepted the toys with a smile, and Haru with a delighted giggle as she clasped hers between both hands. “Oh, it’s so cute! Thank you, Ren, you’re so sweet.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “No big deal.”

“I’m impressed,” Goro remarked, holding his up to the light. “It’s just like you to snare a bonus toy on your first try.”

“What can I say? I’m overflowing with natural talent, and also charm and good looks.”

Goro rolled his eyes, half-smiling. “And such modesty, too.”

“…Said the paragon of demureness,” Haru sniped.

He frowned at her. The arcade light glinted off his chunky gold necklace. But then he flipped his side bangs and splayed a hand on his chest. “I am, after all, an expert in faking personality traits. I should know.”

Ren laughed, and to his pleasure, so did Haru. Even Goro smiled.

“So hey, let’s find something for all of us to play,” Ren said as his datemates put their stuffed dolls away. “You guys have any preferences? The shooting game in front of us is good—I’ve played it out, but I can give you two pointers if you want.”

“That sounds like fun,” Haru said, smiling.

“You can’t give me pointers on shooting, Amamiya,” Goro replied.

Ren laughed, incredulous. Did he seriously go there?? “Have you even played this game before?”

“What does that matter?”

“I learned how to play this one from a master. You still think you’re that much better?”

Goro smirked. “Why don’t you try me?”

Ren laughed again, grinning. “Don’t cry to me when I grind you into the dirt.”

“Hah! That’s my line!”

Haru clucked her tongue, head shaking slightly. “I’ll just watch you two play, then.”

“Don’t worry, Haru, we won’t be long,” Ren said, taking up one of the plastic guns and slipping coins into the game machine. He smirked at his datemates. “I’d tell you you can play against the loser, but I’d hate to make you match up with Akechi.”

She giggled. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I might enjoy facing him after he’s been utterly humiliated.”

Ren cackled. “Wow, brutal!”

Goro clucked his tongue as he paid on his side and took up his pistol. “I’m fine with you protecting Haru-san from me.” He flashed a gleaming smile at him. “You’ll need the excuse to save face, after all.”

Ren smirked back as the game initialized. “We’ll see who’s making excuses by the end.”

Goro smirked back, and the two began to play.

To his credit, Goro hadn’t been just bragging: he was extremely good. Kind of scarily so. Ren ended up falling behind a thousand points at first due to underestimating him. Though he managed to catch up, he couldn’t pull decisively ahead. Their shooting was about equally precise and measured, but Goro had a sharper eye and a stiller hand. Meanwhile Ren’s main advantage, aside from sheer familiarity with the game, was that he was quicker. The first stage passed with a tied score, the second with Goro slightly ahead, the third with Ren ahead. As the fourth loaded, they glared at each other, grinning, each caught up in the competition. The thrill of it made Ren’s heart soar to the stars.

So he gave the gun to Haru.

“I’m gonna grab us some drinks,” he announced. “Haru, you go ahead and play; it must be boring to just watch.”

“Wha—” Haru and Goro chorused, but Ren was already walking away.

After buying a set of canned coffees from the nearest vending machine, he waited a couple minutes, then returned. He smiled at what he saw: Haru, flustered but hanging in there, mowing down enemies as Goro alternated between shooting bad guys and encouraging her. This got them both killed when a dude bombed them both, but hey, they were getting along.

He walked up behind them as Goro put in coins for both them, then held out the canned coffees. “Can’t you guys last five minutes without me?”

Goro scoffed, taking his drink. “What could I do? You left me with an amateur in a stage full of enemy crowds.”

“This is why a grenade launcher is the best ranged weapon,” Haru complained, cheeks puffed out adorably as she accepted hers.

Ren grinned. “There’s a grenade launcher in this game, actually. But you have to know how to find it. Want me to show you, Haru?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Oooh, please do!”

He hip-bumped Goro out of the way and reached for his gun. “My turn, then. Move it, Akechi.”

Goro hmphed but cracked open his drink and let him.

The later stages were harder with Haru as a partner, he had to admit. As promised, she did great once she had a grenade launcher, but the ammo for that was hard to come by, and once she was out she couldn’t just blow everyone up en masse. Still, they hung in there a while as Goro watched. Eventually they ran out of lives and coins, and while they had money enough to get more coins, they wouldn’t get them in time to continue. The three opted to take a break and stand to one side to finish off their drinks.

When Goro knocked back the last of his coffee, he twirled his empty can in one hand. “Say, Amamiya…”

Ren, who was still finishing his off, glanced at him. “Hm?”

“You said before that you wouldn’t allow any, ah… inequality between Haru-san and myself during this, this, this date. Correct?”

“Mhm?”

“Yet… you call her ‘Haru.’”

He lowered his empty drink. “…Yeah?”

“…and me ‘Akechi.’”

Haru leaned forward to look around him at Goro. “Are you asking Ren to call you by your given name?”

Goro coughed into one hand without looking at either of them. “It would only be fair, wouldn’t it?”

Ren smiled in affection. This adorable doofus. “Sure, done. Hell, I’ve been calling you ‘Goro’ in my head for ages now, Goro. I only didn’t do it aloud because I thought you wouldn’t like it.”

His cheeks pinkened. “Oh.”

His smile grew into a grin. “So are you going to call me by my given name now?”

“If you insist…” Pause. Pause. Really ridiculously long pause. “…Ren.”

His grin matched a Cheshire cat’s. “You could even call me Ren-Ren if you want.”

Without mercy or hesitation, Goro shot back, “Absolutely not.”

Ren busted up laughing.

“Why not?” Haru said sweetly. “It would be an adorable pet name, wouldn’t it?”

“It would!” Ren chirped. “Aside from the fact that Ryuji came up with it.”

“That makes it better!” Haru said at the exact same time Goro said, “That makes it worse.”

Ren laughed again. “Then what cute pet name would you give me, Goro?”

“None!”

“That’s no fun,” Haru chided playfully. “You don’t even have to make it fancy. You can just add -chan to his name.”

Ren looked Goro dead in the eye and lilted, “Goro-chan~.”

He made a face that could’ve been revulsion and could’ve been an effort not to laugh. “Don’t -chan me.”

“Goro-chaan,” Haru piped in.

“Not you too!!”

“Goro-chaaaan!” Haru and Ren chorused, pressing up to each other cheek-to-cheek.

Goro palmed his face and groaned, and the two laughed again.

They dumped their cans in the recycling and went through the arcade playing more games, from racing games to skeeball to Dance Dance Like You Want To Win. However, as they did, Ren noticed that Haru stopped calling Goro ‘Akechi-kun’ and now called him ‘Goro-chan.’

By the time they were done, it was nearly one and they were all hungry. Goro suggested a nearby café for lunch. It was damn good, too. After they ate and paid, the three of them chatted about what to do next. Haru suggested the greenhouse at the Jindai Botanical Gardens, while Goro suggested he introduce them to bouldering at his usual gym. Ren asked him what bouldering was, and Goro launched into a surprisingly and endearingly enthusiastic explanation about recreational rock-climbing as a hobby and how it stimulated both the body and mind. He only faltered when Ren leaned over and started staring at his chest and upper arms.

“What?” he said.

“A hobby like that must make you hella buff,” Ren replied, “but your clothes cover you up too well. It’s kinda disappointing.”

Goro made a face. “What do you want me to do, strip?”

A grin snaked up his lips. “I mean, if you’re offering…”

Haru coughed into one hand, her cheeks pink. “You can still tell by looking at his hands and lower arms,” she offered. “It’s not too obvious since they don’t put on muscle as obviously as the chest and upper arms, but you can see they’re more toned than usual.”

“Why—yes,” Goro said, blinking at her. “That’s quite observant of you, Haru-san.”

She smiled up at him. “My hobby involves hauling around hundred-pound bags of fertilizer for long distances, so I have a bit of upper-body strength myself. Not on Mako-chan’s level, but… I know how to recognize it, at least.”

“Oh, yeah, no, nobody’s out-muscling Makoto,” Ren said, grinning. “But I wonder which of you two is stronger.”

“Probably Goro-chan,” Haru said. (Goro groaned and rolled his eyes a little, but didn’t bother to protest the appellation anymore.) “I didn’t train for strength; it was just a side benefit of gardening.”

“Aw, that’s no fun, just assuming he’s stronger.” His grin widened. “Pick me up. Let’s see how you two do.”

Haru’s eyes widened. “Wh-what? Me?”

“Both of us?” Goro added, just as startled.

“You guys wanted to compete, right?” He winked as he raked his fingers through his hair. “I’ll allow it, just this once.”

Haru and Goro exchanged a glance. Then Goro gestured from her to Ren.

“Ladies first,” he said.

“How genteel of you,” she replied, but she stepped forward anyway.

Now, between seeing her cart around huge bags of potting soil like it was nothing, and having fought alongside her in Palaces and the Metaverse, he knew she was strong. But when she stooped down, wrapped her arms around his waist and thighs, and lifted with her knees, he elevatored up and then collapsed over her shoulder like… well, like a bag of potting soil.

“How’s that?” Haru asked, her voice full of cheer, her smile full of mischief.

He grinned as he craned his head to meet her eyes. “Very ni—” And then he choked as she grabbed his butt. “Haru?!” he yelped, face flaming.

For all the knee-jerk embarrassment, though, the fact that she did that at all—and in public, in broad daylight, where everyone could see this “proper” heiress slinging him around and feeling him up and now giggling about it like a (s)innocent schoolgirl—was immensely erotic. He wouldn’t mind if she carried him all the way home, threw him on her bed, and showed him just how aggressive she could be.

When she let him down again, his hands rested on her shoulders and her hands kept to his back and a bit south of his waist, but they both beamed at each other, a little breathless.

“That was fun,” he murmured. “And hot. I knew the Pyro Jack suited you.”

She giggled again, now her turn to blush. She was so goddamn cute!! Seriously, he could just melt in her arms right now. Who gave a fuck who watched?

“Ahem,” Goro coughed.

Oh right. He really should stop letting himself get caught up in the moment.

As little as he wanted to, Ren stepped away from Haru. He brushed her bangs from her face as he went, though, their mutual gaze lingering before he finally turned his focus on unsmiling Goro. He smirked to fire him up.

“So, Pyro Haru proved she could bring the heat. Why don’t you show me how cool you are, Goro Frost?”

Goro huffed a faint laugh even as he rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. Is that the best witticism you could come up with?”

“Hey, that was plenty witty—”

And then Goro kicked his feet out from under him.

The world and an instant blurred by. Before he could hit the concrete sidewalk, though, Goro was there, and scooped him up in both arms. By instinct, Ren flung his arms around Goro’s neck, and he lifted him up in a princess carry. The blurred instant became an instant of weightlessness, and as Ren stared up at him, Goro met his eyes and smiled a picture-perfect, princely smile. The air around them all but sparkled.

“That was dangerous,” he said, expression inappropriately gentle. “Are you all right, my princess?”

Ren choked. “You kicked me over!!”

“And it was dangerous,” Goro replied without batting an eyelash, his wide, seemingly guileless eyes contrasting the razor sharpness that entered his smile.

Ren couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “You are the biggest asshole!”

“Now that’s just hurtful,” he protested, faux-pouting. “Wasn’t it more exciting this way?”

He twirled a few loops, carrying Ren with him as if through a waltz, and then dipped him down, the hand under Ren’s knees moving to his waist in a flash. A delighted gasp caught in Ren’s throat as Goro leaned over him, then pulled him back up to his feet. Oh. He was very strong.

Goro smirked outright, gaze locked on his. “Don’t you like it better when your heart pounds?”

Ah, damn. Damn. Goro’s grip on his waist was so solid, anchoring their hips together. Ren couldn’t help but smile back as his heart pounded. “I can’t deny that.”

“He’s the arsonist and the fireman all at once,” Haru remarked dryly, arms folded.

Goro laughed, smile returning to that sunny TV glamour. “It’s much easier to save someone from danger if you manufacture it yourself first!”

Ren snorted. Fuck. This was peak Goro. “You seriously are the worst.” Then he leaned in and purred into his ear, “And I love it.”

Goro, sweet, precious Goro, blushed as his grip faltered. Ren slipped out of his hold, grinning and laughing and enjoying himself thoroughly.

It had been a thrill, after all. For a moment, as Goro had held him in his arms like a newlywed bride, he’d wanted to tilt his head up and kiss him. Maybe he would have if Goro hadn’t knocked him over first. Ren shook his head in amusement, hopped in between his datemates and twirled around, then hooked his arms through theirs.

“So let’s hit the Jindai Botanical Garden,” he enthused.

“Does that mean Haru-san won?” Goro asked.

Ren snort-laughed. Peak. Goro. “We’ll call that just now a tie. It’s just, after all the dancing and lifting, strolling around a greenhouse sounds like a nice way to cool down.”

Haru smiled, squeezing his arm close. “I’m all for it.”

“You do have a point,” Goro conceded. He smiled, too. “Then as you wish, my princess.”

Ren kicked him, but not very hard, and he laughed again as he did. The Detective Prince, huh… Goro really was cool.

For all that Haru had requested this date to settle her own feelings once and for all, she was actually having a lot of fun. In retrospect, that was no surprise, as having fun was a way of determining what those feelings were. It was just… after Akechi—no, Goro had made his sincerity achingly clear last night, she was starting to see him more and more in a positive light. She could finally trust that he really was trying to be a better person, that he really did regret all the terrible things he’d done. She understood him.

So when he’d knocked Ren off his feet so he could catch and lift him up, she hadn’t been angry or even annoyed, just mildly exasperated. It was just like him to set a fire so he could put it out himself. But more than that, she understood that he never intended Ren to get hurt at all. To keep him from being hurt was the entire point of knocking him over in the first place. It wasn’t nice, but she had a sharpness like that to her too. Had she thought of it, she might’ve done something similar.

Mostly, if she was agitated over anything, it was how she’d realized she wished Goro could have picked her up too. But she couldn’t possibly ask that of him.

The train and bus rides to the Jindai Botanical Gardens were peaceful. Along the way, she, Ren, and Goro discussed what to do about dinner. Goro, ever the encyclopedia of local eateries, brought up a rooftop restaurant he knew in Caretta Shiodome. Haru and Ren had never been, but Goro strongly recommended it, so they all agreed to go with that, especially since they’d be able to see the light show in that district from there.

Once they arrived at the gardens and paid to enter the greenhouse, Haru walked inside and breathed the sultry air. It was gorgeous inside, and warm, so warm it was easy to forget it was still winter outside. She stood up on her toes and stretched, then smiled around at her companions. Her datemates, as Ren said. Ren had tied his jacket around his waist, and Goro had unzipped his hoodie and pulled back its hood. They both looked handsome. Oh, it really was a thrill to go on a date with two boys at once. It made her feel like… hmm… perhaps not a queen; the word couldn’t help but make her think of Makoto. Maybe, then… an empress?

Either way, the three of them chatted pleasantly as they walked through and admired the lush greenery within. There weren’t too many people there today, perhaps because of the season, but that was all right. That just meant they could be a little more relaxed, a little more open.

They started off walking through the Dryland Room, where cacti of all species grew up out of pebble beds. A few other people were there, minding their own business as they traversed the greenhouse room. Haru stuck close to Ren and Goro as they looked over a bush of cacti heads.

“It’s amazing how much life one can find in the desert, isn’t it?” Haru remarked. “We tend to think of them as barren, but look at all these plants common to them.”

“‘Life finds a way,’” Goro quoted. “It’s astonishing how life can endure even in some of the most inhospitable places. I read an article recently about an unmanned expedition to the bottom of the Marianas Trench finding fish and bacteria.”

Ren whistled. “I knew the bottom of the ocean had life around the sea vents, but that’s incredible.” He reached out and stroked the cacti spines, light enough not to get pricked. “Either of you ever drink cactus juice before? I wonder what it tastes like.”

“I don’t know,” Haru said as the trio moved on. “But cactus can bear fruit. I’d like to try it sometime.”

“That would be interesting to taste,” Goro remarked. “I wonder how they manage to grow fruit in the first place? Surely there aren’t bees or other pollinators to spread pollen in the desert.”

“There’s killer wasps and humongous spiders,” Ren offered, half-smiling.

“I’m pretty sure those don’t count, Ren.”

“The internet would probably say,” Haru pointed out.

And so the three took a moment to look up cactus fruits online. It was enlightening. They chatted about the process for a little longer as they strolled through, eventually stopping when the found the predecessor to the cactus fruit: the cactus flower.

Cactus flowers, really. Some had a daisy-like white flower in full bloom; another had a bright red bulb that was perhaps days away from opening; all of them were bright and splashy in the green and beige of the exhibit.

Ren leaned in momentarily. “Mmm… They smell nice.”

“I’ve heard of a variety of cactus that only blooms once a month, and only for a few hours during the night,” Goro remarked. He smiled at the two of them. “Supposedly if you make a wish on the blossom, the wish will come true. Wouldn’t it be nice if that were real?”

“Oh! I know what you’re talking about,” Haru said. “That’s from Valkyrie P rofile, isn’t it?”

Goro choked, reddened, and coughed into one hand. “Er. Yes. Now that you mention it, I believe so.”

Ren stood up, grinning. “Did you make a nerdy reference and try to pass it off as a real-life fact?”

“Shut up.”

He laughed and slung an arm around Goro’s shoulders. “You’re a nerrrrrrd, admiiiit iiiiiit.”

“I admit nothing,” he said haughtily. “Now get off,” he added, making no attempt to actually make Ren get off.

Ren leaned even harder on him. “Make meeeee.”

“You’re so annoying,” Goro sniffed, still making no attempt to force him off.

Haru giggled, holding a hand to her chin. “With how contrary you are, the cactus could well be your heart flower.”

Now hanging from Goro like a sloth, Ren said, “You mean like from Heartcatch P retty Cure?”

Haru lit up. “Yes! You’ve seen it?”

He grinned. “It’s only the best season of P recure.”

Goro coughed into one hand. “…I liked that season, too.”

Haru beamed at the two and criss-crossed her fingers. “Oh, good! Then you both know what I mean!”

He sighed and folded his arms. “If heart flowers were real, mine would have withered away a long time ago.”

“And then you’d have turned into Kumojakechi,” Ren remarked, swinging so low he was nearly on the floor.

“Goro-chan is infinitely more like Cobraja,” Haru pointed out.

“Yeah, but Kumojakechi flows way better.”

She considered this, then held up a finger. “What about Gorobraja?”

“We could have gone with that, huh…! Oof.”

Goro brushed off his shoulder, where he’d finally removed Ren’s hands and made him fall on his butt. “Are you two done?”

Haru smiled at him now. “I don’t think I could ever be done with teasing you.”

He sighed theatrically and shook his head. Ren, next to him, rolled up to his feet and dusted off his jeans.

“So hey,” Ren said, catching Haru’s eye, “if the cactus is Goro’s heart flower, you know what that means?”

Haru smiled. With all the innocence she could fake, she asked, “He keeps others at spine’s length?”

“Oh my god. Don’t try to act cute with me, Haru, I know you know what I mean.”

She allowed herself a grin.

Goro, meanwhile, looked back and forth between the two. “What’s it supposed to mean?”

“Hmm… Do you know anything about the language of flowers, Goro-chan?” Haru wondered.

“Not a thing.” He paused, eyeballing the two of them. “I take it the cactus means something embarrassing or insulting?”

“Excuse you! I would never,” Ren declared in mock outrage. “It has a very positive meaning that I’m extremely into.”

“Then what does it mean?”

Ren’s grin was positively wicked as he slipped behind Goro, wrapped his arms around him, and leaned close to his ear. “Lust,” he whispered huskily.

Goro turned scarlet. Haru burst into giggles as he proceeded to shove Ren away by the face.

“That’s your heart flower, then,” he countered. “Honestly, you’re utterly incorrigible.”

“Untrue. I’m only that when it comes to certain people.” Ren tossed Haru a wink. “Right?”

“You do seem to have a certain weakness for the two of us,” she said sunnily. “Maybe the cactus suits you better after all.”

“Ugh! Betrayal!! A back-stab most foul!” Ren grabbed her and Goro by the wrists, then tugged them along down the displays. “The only way I’ll ever recover from this treachery is with a double dose of hand-holding, stat.”

“You’re an idiot,” Goro said, still red-faced, even as he slipped his hand into Ren’s.

“Yes. A silly little fool,” Haru agreed fondly, threading her fingers and Ren’s together.

Ren squeezed their hands and slowed into an easy pace. “Sorry, I can’t hear you two over the perfection of this moment.”

Goro scoffed, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Haru, for her part, swayed a little closer to Ren. He guided both of them, and together they made the rounds and gradually headed through the greenhouse rooms in companionable silence.

Sadly, they didn’t get to nestle close for as long as Haru would have liked. When the trio approached another group of people, Goro broke off, and so Ren let go of her too. Haru swallowed a sigh. Still, she couldn’t complain. It was Ren and Goro who’d get the strange looks if people saw two boys holding hands. Goro wasn’t wrong to not want to have to deal with that.

From the Dryland Room, they moved on to a trail that brought them around various greenery in between artificial ponds. Haru stopped to admire a huge tree-like plant with several fronds reaching out and up towards the greenhouse bars.

“That reminds me,” Goro said as she searched for a plaque explaining what it was called, “you mentioned your hobby is gardening, Haru-san, isn’t that right?”

Haru stood up and smiled at him. “Oh, yes, I do. It’s such a rewarding hobby! I love the satisfaction of nurturing something in the earth and eating vegetables I grew myself.”

“Haru’s even grown coffee beans,” Ren remarked.

“Yes… Though those are fiddlier than what I grow in the school planters, so I have to grow them at home,” she said with a slight laugh. “My dream is to open my own café someday and serve people food I grew myself.”

“Really?” Goro said, eyebrows rising. “I suppose you could do that easily enough once you take over Okumura Foods, but you make it sound like you’d want to run it yourself. Would you have time for that as CEO?”

“I’m… not sure I do want to take over,” she admitted. “At least, not right now.” She looked up at the two. “I didn’t want to let scoundrels take over my family’s company, but that doesn’t mean I’m the right person to run it.”

Goro’s expression clouded. “Oh… I see.”

“I do appreciate the help you gave me,” she added. “If it weren’t for your support, I don’t know that I would have been able to come to that conclusion. I would have felt too pressured to think clearly. A teenager, still in high school, is not executive material—” She flashed a smile. “—no matter what anime might say.”

That got a laugh out of both of them. Her smile grew.

“Maybe, sometime in the future after I’ve gained more experience, I’ll change my mind,” she continued as they moved on through the trail. “I won’t give up my shares; I do want to remain on the board. I want to stay informed about what goes on, and be in a position to steer the company back on the right track if it starts to stray again. But...” She shook her head. “I’m not qualified to run it. Not as I am now. The more I talk about it, the surer I am of that.”

Ren nodded. “So who’s going to run it instead?”

She brightened some. “Takakura-san has been awfully transparent with me ever since Sugimura was removed from the picture. For all that he butted heads with my father about company-wide decisions, in retrospect, I think that was a good thing. He has experience, and he cares about our products and the people we sell them to, and he’s willing to stand up for his beliefs. I haven’t made up my mind for sure yet, and it’s not just my decision, but I’m inclined to have him take over as CEO.”

“What will happen to you?” Goro wondered.

“Well, if I’m not busy running a huge corporation… I’ll be able to focus on me.” She turned her gaze back out around the trees, grasses, and ferns. If she could make her future café look even half as relaxing and inviting as this, she could die happy. Not that she was planning on dying anytime soon. “I was planning on college no matter what, but I could major in business and botany and work on making my dream come true.” She smiled warmly at Ren. “Maybe I’ll ask Sojiro-san if I could do an internship at Leblanc. Do you think he’d agree to it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he said without hesitation. “The Boss can’t say no to pretty girls.”

She laughed. He smiled back at her. The three of them resumed strolling through the indoor gardens.

“What about you two?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at them. “What are you planning on doing once the school year is over?”

“Mmm… I’m supposed to go back home,” Ren said without enthusiasm. “I’m not really looking forward to it.”

Haru had to agree, though probably for different reasons from him. “It’ll be lonely without you,” she said instead, eyelashes fluttering down. “Is it at all possible you could stay instead? I’m sure Sojiro-san wouldn’t mind letting you stay another year.”

“I don’t know. My dad’s hella strict.” He scowled, grey eyes darkening like storm clouds. “He kicked me to the curb in the first place—shipped me off here to ‘shape up,’ conveniently out of sight and out of mind, with someone I didn’t even know just to make sure it stayed that way. Even though we have family here! But for all that, he always wanted me back after a year so he could show off what a ‘properly penitent and obedient son’ I would be.”

“Sounds like your father is going to be deeply disappointed,” Goro observed.

“Right? I’ve always done my own thing and to hell with what he wants. I don’t know what he expects.”

“What kind of person is your father?” Haru wondered.

“An asshole,” he replied, immediate and brusque.

“More of an asshole than our fathers, or less?” Goro asked.

Ren laughed. “That’s a good question. I can’t say he’s worse than yours, at the very least.”

Haru pursed her lips, then sighed as she cast her gaze down. “If your father never requested anyone’s murder, he’s not worse than mine, either.”

Ren and Goro both went still and silent. A distant murmur wafted up from other visitors on the opposite side of the ponds and greenery. Finally, Ren looked away, rubbing his head.

“…Yeah, when you put it like that, I guess not,” he said. “I guess he’s a normal amount of asshole, as far as bad parents go.”

Goro slipped his hands in his pockets and peered down at the stone-lined pond in front of them. “I know I’m biased, but it sometimes seems to me like most parents are bad parents.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s up with that.” Ren turned to join him. Haru did too, if on Ren’s other side. “How hard can it be to remember what it was like when your own parents fucked you up as a kid, then not do that?”

“I think it probably has to do with how each person’s relationship with their parents is different,” Haru remarked. “My father’s relationship with his father was also bad, but in a different way from how he and I were. Maybe part of that is because I’m a girl…”

“Mm.”

Goro looked over at him. “If I may ask… what’s your relationship like with your mother?”

“I dunno… It’s hard to describe. Sort of…” Ren tilted his head. “Nonexistent?”

Haru blinked at him. Surely he didn’t mean she was dead? “What do you mean?”

“I mean she kind of, like… takes the back row and lets whatever happen, happen. She’s passive. It’s incredibly frustrating to me.” Ren brooded at his reflection in the dark green water. “She doesn’t ever argue with my father. Maybe for her, that’s the key to getting along with him, but it means she never takes my side.

“When I got arrested, Dad didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent. He lectured me for hours about all kinds of different bullshit, but especially about being a disappointment, and then told me what I was going to do after I got out of juvie to make up for it or else he was kicking me out for good.” His eyes narrowed as his jaw clenched. “I tried to appeal to Mom. Asked her if she thought I would really assault someone for no reason. She never answered that. She just said, as long as I lived in that house, I had to listen to my father, and she wished I had more of a Japanese sensibility.”

“In other words, that you hadn’t rocked the boat in the first place,” Haru murmured. As a woman, she understood well what ‘a Japanese sensibility’ was supposed to mean.

“You’re probably right,” Ren replied, voice tight. “And—it makes me so angry. Maybe I wasn’t the well-mannered, straight-laced kid they wanted. Maybe I was too willful. Too rebellious. Too queer. But none of that made me bad. Why couldn’t they have believed in me?”

Silence strung out after that taut, impassioned question. At length, Goro cleared his throat.

“It probably didn’t matter to them if you’d been innocent or guilty,” he said quietly. “And it probably didn’t matter if you were rebellious or obedient. They never saw you as your own person in the first place, merely as a reflection of themselves. The first time you got into serious trouble, they would have done the same thing. Just to save face.”

“Thanks, Goro. That’s really fucking depressing.”

“Having parents who don’t love you usually is,” he replied, staring into the pond.

Haru flinched. Another heavy silence weighed on them. This time, it was punctured by a soft, sharp, shuffling breath. She looked up at its source and gasped.

Ren was crying.

Goro noticed at almost the same moment, expression turning stricken. Together they turned towards Ren as he clutched his arms to his chest and hid his face behind one hand.

“Ren, I’m sorry,” Goro said in a rush, hands out but just shy of touching him. “I don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m just projecting, I don’t even know your parents, I can’t know if they—”

“No, you’re right,” he interrupted between tiny sobs. “They haven’t even tried to call me all year. And what kind of loving parents would do what they did to me in the first place?”

Haru didn’t have an answer for that. Neither, it seemed, did Goro. The two of them met each other’s eyes from either side of Ren; then, as one, they drew closer to hold and reassure him.

Ren layered his hands over one each of theirs. “It’s really… It’s really hard. When you’ve got no one on your side. It really fucks with you. After a while, I started to get the idea everyone was right about me. That I should just keep my head down and fall in line. I almost gave up. If I hadn’t met Ryuji and stumbled into the Metaverse, I think I would’ve.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, Ren,” Haru said softly. “You’ve done so much good—for us, for the people of Tokyo… It doesn’t matter what everyone else thinks. We know the truth.”

He smiled at her. When she reached up with her handkerchief, he shut his eyes and let her dry his face. On his other side, a melancholy Goro hugged his arm and leaned his head on his.

“We know how you feel,” he murmured.

Ren sob-laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m preaching to the choir here, huh?” He leaned back from Haru, sniffling, but pulling her close too. “Sorry. I kind of—I haven’t talked about them to anyone since I got here. Been kind of, just, pushing them out of mind. Easy enough to do when neither of us have tried to contact the other.”

“You haven’t tried to call them, either?” Haru asked, tucking her handkerchief away.

“I don’t want to talk to them. And even if I did, what would I say? ‘Hi Mom, hi Dad, I know you sent me here to straighten me out, but actually I’ve gone hard the other direction and now I’m the leader of the infamous Phantom Thieves’?”

Goro laughed. “It might be worth it just for the looks on their faces.”

Ren laughed too, a mean edge to it. “I could do worse. I could instead say, ‘Hi Mom, hi Dad, I’m dating a nice girl—and a nice boy, at the same time. I’m super queer, like you keep pretending you don’t know. Deal with it.’”

Goro’s laugh took on a similar nasty edge. “I’m not that nice.”

Haru leaned on Ren’s shoulder. “Neither am I.”

He grinned and wrapped an arm around her. “I know. It’s great.”

This time, the silence they fell into was a comfortable one. They admired the lily pads and lotuses, the ferns and trees. Then, after a while, they split apart and began to amble again down the pathway through the gardens.

“Thanks for listening to me,” Ren said quietly as they went.

“Of course,” Haru said earnestly. “You’ve always listened to me. It’s the least I could do.”

“You bottle up too much,” Goro commented. “Speaking as someone who does the same, I can assure you, it’s a terrible life decision. Much like the rest I’ve made.”

Ren chuckled, but Haru glanced at Goro. He said it lightly, as if joking, but she wasn’t so sure he really was.

“I do bottle up a lot,” Ren admitted all the same. “Comes from a lifetime of parents who don’t care what I think, I guess.”

“Are you still going to go back at the end of the school year?” Haru asked. “It’s obvious you don’t want to.” She smiled. “And don’t you always do what you want?”

He smiled back. “True. Well, maybe I do wanna go back.” He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. “Show off how much better off I am without them.”

“So, what,” Goro said with humor, “you’d go all the way back home to spit in their faces, then come right back?”

Ren’s grin sharpened. “Sounds appealing. And, hell.” He stretched his arms out over his head. “I’ve been through way worse than what they can dish out. I might stay just to annoy them with how I didn’t break after all.”

“And if it gets to be too much, you always have somewhere else you can go,” Haru said.

“Yup!” He slipped his hands in his pockets. “Am I in a win-win situation for once? This is awesome. I feel way better now.”

She giggled. “I’m glad to hear it. I much prefer seeing you happy.”

He smiled down at her. “Or when I’m spit-taking poop coffee across the table?”

She and Goro both cracked up. “That’s a bonus,” she joked, her grin just a bit wicked.

The three of them soon reached a room filled with potted and hanging flowers. A tiny stone pond with flowers swirling on its surface drew the eye, as did the white wrought-iron chairs and round table before it and the wooden trellis that separated the tableau from the path. There were only two seats, but the lip of the stone pond was tall and wide and stable enough to sit on, so the three of them decided to rest there. She and Ren settled in on the chairs, and Goro perched on the pond lip.

“So wherever you end up completing high school, do you have any plans for after you graduate?” Goro asked Ren. When Ren shrugged, he added, “Why not?”

“I mean, it’s a whole year off. I’ve got my hands full just dealing with everything I’ve got going on right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t have dreams for the future.”

Ren made a non-committal noise and shrugged again.

“You don’t mean you have no dreams, do you?” Haru wondered, leaning on the table. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just… I dunno.” Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “I used to have something I wanted to do, of course. I told you guys about that before.”

“Be an Olympic competitor for gymnastics and win a gold medal,” Haru recited. “Yes. I remember.”

He nodded. “You don’t need to go to college for that. Some competitors are only high schoolers themselves. If I were good enough, I could compete right now.” He shrugged. “And, you know. If I didn’t have a criminal record. But whatever. Either way, it’s not an option.”

“Why not?” Goro asked. “Don’t you think you’re good enough?”

Ren paused, blinking. “For what? The Olympics?”

He nodded.

“…I dunno. I haven’t talked to a coach about it in… Damn, has it almost been a year already? And like I said, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“If you could, would you try for it?”

Ren paused again. He gave Goro a searching look. “Why do you keep pressing about this?”

“Because giving up doesn’t suit you,” he said briskly.

He frowned, then leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Everyone has their weak spots, Goro.”

He frowned back, gaze flicking down. Then he swept his hair back, shoulders straightening. “Perhaps you didn’t know? Any criminal record you have as a minor gets expunged once you’re an adult. You’d only have to wait three more years.”

“Maybe that’s true legally, but a reputation has a way of lingering. Besides, three years might as well be an eternity,” Ren replied dryly. “Seriously, it’s fine. Maybe I don’t know what I want to do now, but I’ll figure something out sooner or later.”

“You have accomplished quite a bit already,” Haru commented, “even if most people don’t realize it.”

“Yeah. Hell, why not?” He glanced around. Once he saw the area was empty, he grinned that wonderful, spicy grin of his. “Maybe I’ll become a phantom thief full-time. Change the world one heart at a time. I sure wouldn’t mind that.” He gestured one-handed at Goro. “Though maybe a certain celebrity detective disagrees. What d’you think, Goro? Still going to protest changing hearts is immoral?”

Goro’s eyelashes drooped. Then he huffed a faint laugh and half-smiled. “Me? Hardly. Actually, maybe I’ll change professions and join you.”

Ren brightened. “Oh yeah?”

His smile grew. “Mhm. Detective work is so boring. Running through Palaces with you would be much more of a thrill.”

He laughed. “That does sound fun.” With a wink, he added, “I’d miss my one and only rival, though.” And when Goro blinked wide and blushed, he laughed again.

Haru giggled too. “He does make everything more exciting, doesn’t he?” she commented to Ren.

“He does,” Ren agreed, leaning on the table between them as he grinned. “It just won’t be the same.”

Goro huffed and looked away, but the glow of his smile, however much he tried to repress it, was unmistakable. “Honestly. You’re both so embarrassing.”

“And now you’re stuck with us,” Ren countered.

Haru chirped, “Truly, your lot in life is a heavy burden.”

Ren cracked up laughing while Goro snorted, but let himself smile openly.

“And what about you, Haru-san?” he added. “Will you find some time for part-time phantom thieving in between running your own restaurant?”

“Oh, naturally,” she responded, smile growing. “Someone has to earn the actual money, and it may as well be me.”

“So what are we? Freeloaders?” Goro asked in mock outrage, one hand pressed to his chest.

“No, obviously we’re part-timing at her place,” Ren said.

Smiling with mischief, Haru said, “Oh no. You’ll both be my arm candy.”

Their reactions were striking in their difference. Goro sputtered, “Wh- wh at ?!” while Ren mused, “I don’t see why I can’t be a part-timer and arm candy at the same time.”

“Ooh, how ambitious of you,” Haru teased.

Ren grinned and leaned his cheek on one hand. “I’ll be the hottest part-timer/arm candy ever.”

Recovering, Goro flipped his hair. “Uhhh, I believe you mean to say second hottest.”

“Are you trying to say you’re better-looking than me?”

“Oh, there’s no trying about it, Ren.”

Ren half-laughed, half-snorted, and turned to Haru. “What do you say? Who’s hotter, me or Goro?”

“Like that’s fair, asking her,” Goro scoffed.

Still, Haru put on an air of thoughtfulness. “Oh, I really don’t know. We’d have to find some kerosene and a lighter to be sure.”

Ren choked. “WOW, DARK.”

Goro’s eyebrows meanwhile vanished into his bangs. “Haru-san… sometimes, you are utterly terrifying.”

“Yeah, I forgot, Haru’s the hottest,” Ren agreed.

She giggled, face warming, and beamed at them both. That much had been a joke, but the idea of two handsome men on each arm… As Ann or Futaba might say, she’d be living the dream. More and more, she could understand Ren’s polyamory. Much as she loved him, it was more exciting with Goro around.

Then, like a gas bubble rising from a swamp, came the unbidden thought: Is there something that excites you about dating your father’s killer?

Haru’s lips pursed as her good cheer drained away.

“Something wrong?” Ren asked.

“Oh—it’s just...” She hesitated, searching for a good excuse.

Lucky for her, just then, Goro’s smartphone rang. He pulled it out of his hoodie pocket and checked the surface. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, looking at them both. “I’ll be just a minute.”

They nodded at him, and he accepted the call. “Hello?” he murmured as he walked off.

Ren watched him go, then looked back at Haru. “So you were saying?”

She shook her head. “It’s just the usual,” she whispered.

“What’s ‘the usual’?” he whispered back.

She scowled at him, then gave Goro’s back a pointed look.

He followed her gaze. “Ah.”

She sighed and glanced away.

“Your feelings about him haven’t changed any?”

“They have changed,” she murmured. “That’s the problem.”

“They have, for the better, and you feel like they shouldn’t, because it’s like a betrayal of your father’s memory,” Ren guessed, or maybe more accurately mind-read. “Am I right?”

She nodded once.

“Well, according to your dad, betrayal is just a thing Okumuras do,” he pointed out. “And anyway, he betrayed you first, so fair’s fair.”

Haru blinked. Then she snerked and broke into giggles. Her feelings weren’t completely resolved, but: “You have a point!”

He grinned. “Happy to be of service.” Motion caught his eye, and both of them looked over to see Goro return with a clouded expression. “Welcome back. D’you need to go?”

Goro shook his head. “It wasn’t business.”

“Whatever it was, you seem worried about it,” Haru noted.

He blinked at her rapidly. “Do I?” With a little laugh, he waved a hand as if to dismiss the idea. “Let’s get back to strolling through the greenhouse, then. I’d rather enjoy this day.”

“Fair enough,” said Ren. He rose to his feet and offered a hand to each of them. “Shall we?”

Haru smiled and accepted. So, too, did Goro, and each of them leaned on Ren. She wished a little bit that she could be in the middle after all—and this time, having that wish bothered her less.

Chapter Text

Dinner went well. The blue-and-white lights strung through the streets created a lovely ambiance for Ren, Goro, and Haru as they ate on a rooftop restaurant over Caretta Shiodome. Since it was the middle of winter, the outside tables were all but deserted, so they’d decided to get seated there. They chatted about the upcoming exams and Ren’s efforts on studying in between all his other objectives, as well as Haru and Goro’s efforts to study for college entrance exams on top of them.

It was, Goro reflected, kind of fun to complain about something so relatively meaningless. It gave him a sense of normalcy, and having these troubles in common with Ren and Haru gave him a sense of belonging. It was enough to let him push his dread over the phone call he’d received earlier entirely aside.

As they considered the dessert menu, Goro looked over at Ren. “So, now that we have some relative privacy, I wanted to ask… How did you meet Igor?”

“Hmm?” He looked up at him, eyes wide, and scratched his head. “That’s a complicated question. The simplest answer is ‘in my dreams.’”

Haru’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Goro, though, nodded slowly. “Right around when you got the Metaverse app?”

“You guessed it. Was it the same for you?”

He nodded again.

“Who exactly is Igor?” Haru asked.

“Ah, sorry,” Ren said. “He’s, uh. How do I explain this without sounding crazy.” A pause. “You know, I don’t think I can, so I’ll just say it: he’s a bulgy-eyed, long-nosed weirdo who lurks in a non-existent place called the Velvet Room, and he helps me curate my Personas.”

“Oh. So he’s sort of like Mona-chan?”

Ren stared. “You took that way better than I thought you would.”

Haru clucked her tongue. “Ren, how long have I been running through ‘non-existent places’ with you now?”

“In all fairness to me, only a couple of months now.”

“The Velvet Room isn’t a Palace, to clarify one point,” Goro added. “Igor explained it to me as an independent place that exists somewhere between dreams and reality. While I first visited it during my dreams, I was later able to visit it via doors scattered through Tokyo that only I could see.”

“Ditto,” Ren said.

“How strange,” Haru mused. “If any Persona-User could see them, that would be one thing, but why only you two?”

Ren shrugged. “Search me.”

“We do have the ‘wild card’ ability in common. Perhaps that has something to do with it. That said…” Goro glanced at him. “I take it you haven’t mentioned it to your friends before. Why not?”

“Back at the start, we were all still pretty new to each other. When I realized I could see something they couldn’t, I didn’t think it was smart to bring it up. Then I just kept… not bringing it up.”

“I think I may have heard you mention the Velvet Room in passing once or twice,” Haru said. “I distinctly recall Ann-chan saying it sounded like a club.”

Ren laughed. “I don’t think you guys would like the scene at this particular club.”

“Hear, hear,” Goro muttered.

Haru asked, “Why? What’s it like?”

“A prison,” said Ren at the same moment Goro said, “An orphanage.”

The two of them exchanged a stare.

“Er.” Haru furrowed her brows. “Are orphanages in this country that bad?”

Ren scratched his cheek. “I mean, I wouldn’t know, but I don’t think you could mistake this for an orphanage.”

“What does it look like to you?” Goro asked.

“Uh. Like a prison?”

He rolled his eyes. “In detail, please.”

Ren thought. “Large. Closed in. Blue. Lots of cells, but all but mine are empty, except for when I put Personas in lockdown. There’s a desk in the center, and that’s where Igor, the warden, sits. Uhh. That’s about it? I can’t leave my cell, so I’ve never given the entire place a good look.”

“Your ‘cell’?”

“Yeah. Like. A prison cell.” Ren gestured vaguely in the air. “Bars in front, cot to the side. And I’m dressed in stripes. And I can’t leave. Because I’m in prison.”

Goro gave him an appraising look. “Hm. So you’re a prisoner.”

Now Ren rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Goro, I’ve been saying that.”

“So even though you’re on parole, you still think of yourself as being imprisoned?”

Ren abruptly went quiet.

Goro let him keep his silence. Haru looked between the two of them, but she didn’t speak either. Goro set his menu down; he’d had no real intent of ordering dessert, anyway.

“For me, there’s some structural similarities,” he said softly. “A large, circular, enclosed building in blue, with Igor sitting at a desk in the center. But I’m not in a cell; I’m seated in a chair directly in front of Igor, like a child called to the principal’s office. Closed doors line the walls at regular intervals. There’s a bright light at my back, but I’ve never been able to see its source, because I can’t turn around.” He paused. “In the early days, children used to run about, laughing and playing. I never saw them directly, but I saw their shadows on the wall, and I could hear them. As time went on, though, there were fewer and fewer of them, until the last time I was there, there was only one. That was over a year ago. I haven’t been back since.”

“An unwanted, cursed child,” Ren said murmured.

Goro shrugged and folded his arms to hide the stiffness in his shoulders. “As you say. But you two already knew that about me.” He gave Ren a pointed look. “I find it rather interesting that, in your mind, you’re still an inmate.”

Ren looked down at his lap. Then he shrugged back. “I told you before. Everyone’s got their weak spots.”

Goro watched him in silence until Haru caught Goro’s eye. Then, both of them slipped their hands under the table to reach for Ren’s.

He smiled and accepted both of them. But while Haru smiled back, Goro didn’t.

Everyone’s got their weak spots. A terribly obvious platitude, and yet finding Ren’s, knowing he too was hurt and damaged, had made him happy. Yet wasn’t it terrible in and of itself to be happy about knowing what brings someone else pain? He glanced at Haru. She’d told him once that Ren deserved someone who would treat him well. Could someone like him, who resented Ren’s strengths and relished his weaknesses, do right by him?

I truly am a bad person, he mused gloomily.

“What’s on your mind?” Ren asked.

Goro shook his head. “Nothing worth sharing.”

Another silence. Haru cleared her throat. “I wonder why you two see that Velvet Room place so differently?”

“I’ve definitely never heard any kids there,” Ren replied, “unless you count Caroline and Justine.”

Goro furrowed his brows. “Who?”

Ren glanced at him. “Caroline and Justine? They’re the prison guards to Igor’s warden. I, uh, don’t know how they appear to you, but they’re two young girls? White hair, golden eyes? Caroline’s a firecracker and Justine’s demure?”

Goro shook his head slowly. “I’ve never met anyone like that.”

“They help out with Persona stuff?” Ren pressed. “Sometimes they ask for special fusions?”

Goro paused. “It’s only ever been Igor and me there.”

“That’s strange,” Haru said, echoing his thoughts. “Why would one of you have two extra assistants and the other have none?”

“I don’t know,” Ren said slowly. “I did get the impression that they have some weird memory issues… Maybe, since they’re kids, they did originally come from Goro’s Velvet Room?”

“Are you suggesting they were among those shadows on the wall, and got ‘adopted out’ to you?” Goro said slowly.

“I mean, you haven’t been back in a year, right? That’s almost how long I’ve had these powers.”

Goro shook his head. “If that’s true, then where did all the others go?”

Ren shrugged.

“Maybe Mona-chan would have some insight?” Haru suggested. “He might have amnesia, but he’s quite well-informed about the Metaverse.”

“I can try asking him about it,” Ren said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Goro glanced from one to the other. This was a choice opportunity. “Why don’t we wrap up here and head to Leblanc, then?” he suggested. “Even if it turns out he’s not in, we can have some after-dinner coffee instead of dessert.”

Ren smiled. “Good idea.”

“Yes, that sounds lovely,” Haru agreed.

Goro smiled back. A perfect result.

They settled up the bill after some arguing over who would actually take care of it; they ultimately agreed Goro would, and in return, Haru would summon a ride to Yongen-Jaya. When Ren asked what he was supposed to do, Haru and Goro both told him, “Be impressed.”

After a smooth and quiet ride, they arrived at their destination. Haru told the driver to stay in the area, as she’d need the ride home later, and the three of them walked through the narrow streets to Leblanc. Sojiro told them Futaba had come by and taken Morgana back home with her, so they decided not to sweat it for the time being, relax in a booth, and enjoy some coffee.

While Sojiro brewed it, Goro excused himself to make a phone call. He left the café and went to Takemi Medical Clinic instead. Dr. Takemi had called him earlier, while he’d been at the Jindai Botanical Gardens, to let him know the results of his MRI were already back, far sooner than he could have reasonably expected. A gut feeling told him that it could only be because the results were dire. Wishful thinking insisted he was being paranoid. Both urged him to go see her and find out for sure as quickly and discreetly as possible. Focusing on the discreet part, at least, had helped him keep it together until now. Now…

Let it be nothing, he prayed as Dr. Takemi brought him into the examination room. Let this be something I can brush aside with ease. Let this be a good night. I just want to e njoy my time with Ren and Haru. Please, let me have this one small thing.

“So I have good news and I have bad news,” she said briskly, swinging around on her rotary chair until she faced him. “Which do you want to hear first?”

“I don’t care,” he said as his right leg jittered. “Just tell me.”

“The good news, then, is that it’s not cancer.”

Goro’s shoulders relaxed somewhat as he nodded. Whatever else, that was good news.

“The bad news is that we don’t know what it is, beyond that you seem to have magically sustained mild to moderate traumatic brain injuries from unknown causes.”

…Ah.

“I say ‘unknown’ because you still won’t tell me what happened that night,” she said pointedly, reaching back and handing him a manila envelope. He shook out its contents and stared at several faintly colored cranial scans. A certain section of his frontal lobe was heavily pockmarked around an unmarred section of the same. “As you can see, there’s a part around the damaged area that’s just fine. We don’t know why that is, either. It’s like if you’d opened an umbrella in a hailstorm and everything around you but what was under the umbrella got smashed up. Anyway, regardless of how this happened, it’s clear that this is the cause of your recurring headaches. I’d bet cold hard cash you’ve got plenty of other symptoms of this damage that you haven’t or won’t tell me about, too.”

“Symptoms like what?”

Dr. Takemi plucked a sheet up from her desk and handed it to him. On it was a list of symptoms ranging from mild to moderate-to-severe. She was right. Besides the headaches, he’d had dizziness, mood swings, depression and anxiety, difficulty sleeping—granted, that was normal for him—repeated nausea and vomiting… and the headaches hadn’t gone away, only gotten worse, which meant…

He put the sheet down on his lap and stared into space. “Am I going to die?” Akechi wondered. His voice sounded like it was coming from a long distance away, as if he were underwater.

“I don’t know that either,” Dr. Takemi replied, matter-of-fact. “Based on what I do know, I’d say it’s unlikely. You weren’t hemorrhaging, and the worst physical damage you had was exhaustion. There’s no signs of internal bleeding, either, either then or now, and the MRI didn’t pick up any indication of degenerative disease. It’s like this brain damage appeared out of nowhere.”

Akechi thought of his desperate battle against Ren and the others. I’ve never felt like this before in my life, he’d said, before sacrificing his precious self-control in a gambit to kill them all.

To a one, whenever he’d used his power to turn hearts psychotic on someone, they’d ended up dead or vegetative. But he? He’d lost control of himself for a little while, then went around walking and talking like nothing had changed. How had that never occurred to him as strange? How had he never wondered if using that usually-fatal, usually-permanent power on himself would have side effects at the very least?

“What’s the practical effect of this damage, besides the headaches?” he asked.

She arched an eyebrow. “You tell me. You’ve got the list.”

He swallowed hard. Glancing at her desk, he spotted a pen and gestured for her to hand it to him. Once she did so, he circled the symptoms he’d experienced so far and handed the sheet and pen back to her. She reviewed it, then nodded once.

“Makes sense,” she said, meeting his gaze. “The worse damage you’ve got is over the part of the brain that governs your emotions. Consequently, you’ll experience more difficulty in controlling your emotional responses to things. In other words, your reactions will likely become overblown.

“Now, because of the undamaged section, it won’t be all that bad all the time. Under normal circumstances, you’ll probably notice hardly any difference at all. But when you’re stressed out, angry, or upset…”

“I see.” For a moment, Akechi stared at the photos depicting the physical manifestation of his psychological damage. He thought of his recent crying jags. Of how devastating Futaba’s truth-bombs had been. Fuck! His entire psyche had come tumbling down (tumbling down, tumbling down, his brain sang at him). “What about if this section here were as bad as the rest? What would be different?”

“Funny you ask.” Dr. Takemi rested her chin on one hand. “My colleague, the one who did the MRI on you, mentioned that he’d seen something like this a couple times before. You’ve heard of the cases of people undergoing psychotic breakdowns over the past couple years, right? Well, he’d managed to get in on the autopsies of a couple of their corpses before. He said that your scans looked a whole lot like a mild version of what he saw then. So, to answer your question on if it were as bad: you’d be a madman on the rampage, and then you’d be dead.”

Akechi stared a moment longer at the scans. Then, like an involuntary spasm, a giggle bubbled out of him. Then another, and another, until suddenly he was laughing uncontrollably, photo sheets fluttering to the floor so he could clutch his broken head. Even to his own ears, he sounded unhinged, but he couldn’t stop. Even knowing this too was likely a symptom of his brain injuries, he couldn’t stop. Soon, he started sobbing too, and he hugged himself as he bent double.

“Uhhh… are you going to be okay…?” Dr. Takemi asked warily.

“Okay? Ahahaha… Okay?? Ahahahaha!!” He gripped his hair as if to tear it out. “What an absolutely idiotic question! Of course I’m not okay!! I’ll never be ‘okay’ again!!”

Mercifully, she kept her goddamn fool mouth shut. Eventually he calmed down. She offered him a box of tissues, and he accepted it. Once he’d cleaned his face, he faced the wall and collapsed on the cot.

“Is it going to get worse?” he wondered quietly.

“At present, I don’t know. We’d have to monitor your condition for a while to say for sure,” she replied, just as quiet. “If you’re lucky, your symptoms will fade within a few weeks to a few months. If you’re unlucky, you’ll have them for life. But I can tell you that the difference between ‘lucky’ and ‘unlucky’ will probably actually be whether or not you get good treatment in time--and I want to remind you, Mr. Celebrity Ace Detective, that you literally make your living on your brain, so you really ought to take better care of it.” A beat. “So. Are you still going to refuse to check yourself into a proper hospital?”

“I…” He stared into nothing. “…I can’t. I still have things I need to do.”

“I see.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” he mumbled. “It would be a waste of the hospital’s time.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I brought this on myself.” What did he think would happen after he turned that power on himself? He may as well have pulled a gun on his own temple. “I deserve this.”

“That’s stupid,” Dr. Takemi snapped. “Whatever happened to cause this, hospitals are there to help people. You don’t need to ‘deserve’ healing.”

Akechi didn’t argue. The only way she’d understand was if he told her everything, and the very idea made him taste bile.

She heaved a frustrated sigh and shook her head. “Whatever. It’s your decision, I guess. Just let me state for the record that I think it’s a bad one.”

He slipped off the cot and stood. “Do you? How appropriate. Starting with my conception, my entire life has been one long string of bad decisions.”

He was halfway out when the doctor told him to wait. He almost ignored her, but decided at the last second to stop and look her way.

“If you won’t go to the hospital, you can at least come here if you need to,” she said, tone gentling. “I’d rather you have insufficient treatment than none at all.”

He stared at her, then down at his feet. It was nice that she cared, but this wasn’t what he needed at all right then. “Thank you,” he managed. “I’ll keep that in mind, doctor.”

“Are the meds I gave you keeping the headaches in check, at least?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Let me know if you need more. I’ll get you something to help your other symptoms, too.”

“Thank you. I will.”

She clucked her tongue and folded her arms. “Get yourself home, then. And at least get some rest. Remember, stress will make it worse.”

His left hand circled around and gripped the item he’d brought from home for Ren. “Unfortunately, Dr. Takemi, I lead a stressful life.”

This time, he didn’t wait for her to respond before leaving. He stopped by the bathroom to wash his face and inspect his reflection, and didn’t leave until he felt confident enough to fake normalcy.

The last thing he wanted was for them to find out about all--this.

The bell over Leblanc’s door jingled, interrupting Ren’s conversation with Haru. He smiled broadly when he saw who it was, though. “Goro! That sure took a while. So who should we beat up for dragging you away from us so long? The cops? Ooe? Some other mystery target?”

“Haha. My apologies for keeping you two waiting,” Goro said as he approached and slipped into the booth opposite Ren, next to Haru. “I should have waited until our date was over to field that matter. That was a mistake in my judgment.”

Ren’s smile faded as Haru scooted over to make room for him. “Is everything okay?”

Goro blinked rapidly, startling momentarily out of the plastic smile he’d had affixed. “What? Of course. Or, ahaha, of course you’d worry after I made you wait so long. I’m fine, really.”

“You do seem… rather upset,” Haru pointed out, looking up at him.

“And like you’re trying not to worry us over it,” Ren concluded, watching his face.

All the emotion drained from it as he stared at him, then at Haru. He sighed a little, and it was like he’d let the air out of his shoulders, which sank into a slouch. “…Am I that transparent?” he asked quietly with an ironic little smile.

“I wouldn’t say transparent, exactly…” Haru said. She offered him a smile. “We’ve just come to understand you that well.”

Goro’s smile turned from ironic to genuine as they gazed at each other. “I see.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ren asked. “If you need to vent--”

“No, no,” he insisted, waving a hand. “I don’t want to drag down the mood, and it’s not the sort of thing I can share, anyway. I would infinitely prefer a distraction.”

Work stuff, Ren concluded. “Then you’re in luck, because our coffee should be here any…”

Sojiro arrived then at the table with a tray of steaming cups. He set one down in from of each of them and gave them all a good-natured nod. “Take your time,” he said knowingly, and strolled off.

Ren smiled as he picked up his cup. “We asked him to wait ‘til you arrived to serve us up,” he explained.

Goro lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“We had faith you’d come back… sooner or later,” Haru teased.

He laughed a little, tension seeping from his shoulders and the corners of his eyes. The rest of his face relaxed when he picked up his cup between both hands and breathed in the coffee’s steam. “It’s a bit strange.” He took a long sip. “This is one of the few places where I can truly relax.”

“It’s not really strange at all, is it?” Haru said, smiling, as she picked up her own cup. “It smells wonderful, the ambiance is lovely, and…” Her smile and the color of her cheeks deepened. “This is where Ren is, after all.”

Ren sipped his coffee and smiled at both of them. “This is more of a home to me than my actual house is… but I sure wouldn’t have expected that when I first came.”

“Mm.” Goro gazed down at his reflection in the coffee. “I feel the same way.”

“If we feel the same about that, then can I ask you two how you feel about today?”

“I had a lot of fun!” Haru enthused. “I wasn’t really sure what to expect out of a date, but… it was a lot like normally spending time with friends. Only…” The side of her mouth tugged wider. “More so.”

Goro glanced at her. “True. Haha, I suppose neither of us have much experience at flirting.”

“Flinging Ren around was a more than wonderful experience on its own,” she said brightly.

With growing warmth, Goro chuckled again. “Very true. He was lighter than I expected.” He shot Ren a glance and nudged him with a foot under the table. “Are you sure you’re eating right? Even if you get regular exercise in Mementos, you won’t build muscle if you don’t eat enough protein.”

“You saw me eat a burger half my own size,” Ren pointed out. “I’m pretty sure I’m getting enough protein.”

To his delight, Goro and Haru both launched into a fit of hysterical giggles at that.

“You have to spread your nutrition out to get the most of it! You can’t just devour it all at once!” Goro uttered through his laughter.

“Most of that meal no doubt passed right through you,” Haru added between her giggles. “Perhaps you could have produced some fine coffee beans of your own!”

“Oh my god,” Ren uttered, face heating, as they both roared. Still, he also smiled for real. Once they both settled down, he added, “So we all had a great time tonight, then.” And, once they both agreed: “Then can I ask how you two feel about each other now?”

Their good spirits--didn’t fade, exactly, so much as they got shaded in with awkwardness. Goro and Haru shared a glance.

“Umm… It’s hard for me to put into words,” Haru murmured. “How about you, Goro-kun…?”

He averted his gaze. “I… also find it difficult to put into words.”

That was a mutual cop-out if Ren ever heard one. He decided to not to push it. The mission wasn’t over yet, and they probably both needed some time to process how they felt. For now, he chose to be hopeful. “That’s fine,” he said. “Personally, I had an absolute blast--” He broke into a grin. “--and I’m even more head over heels for both of you than before.”

That brought smiles back to their faces, along with a redness to their cheeks.

“Let’s do this again for Christmas Eve. All three of us,” Ren added, gentling. “It just wouldn’t be the same if any of us weren’t here.”

“I agree,” Haru murmured shyly. “As much as I enjoyed just being with you, Ren… competing with Goro-kun added a certain je ne sais quoi. Without him, it wouldn’t have been as much fun.”

Goro blinked at her wide-eyed. “R-really?”

She nodded. “I don’t know how you feel, but…”

“I… That means a lot to me.” He swallowed hard. “Your opinion matters to me.”

“It does?”

“Well--yes. Or else I wouldn’t have accepted your challenge.” He turned his coffee cup in his hands. “Knowing you take me seriously, and that you want me around, makes me… happy.”

Haru’s blush deepened. “I-in that case… then, actually… I think I don’t mind sharing Ren with you.”

Ren sat up straight, heart breaking into a sprint.

“I might not ever forgive you where my father is concerned,” she continued as Goro stared at her. “But after yesterday, I can trust that you really do want to make amends for it. I can trust you. And I really did have a good time today with both of you. So… I don’t mind sharing.”

Goro stared at her a moment longer. As the scarlet in his face deepened, he lowered his gaze. “If… if that’s how you feel… then perhaps I don’t mind either,” he said slowly.

Ren broke into a relieved grin. “Really?”

At first, Goro said nothing. For some reason, he looked troubled. Conflicted, maybe? God knew he hated to lose. Ren crossed his fingers under the table and masked his nerves by taking a long sip of coffee. Please don’t let him get competitive. Please don’t let him get competitive. Please don’t let him get competitive.

As Ren repeated that mantra in his head, Goro looked up at him. “There’s just one thing I need to know. Ren, before you said that if you had to choose one of us, you would. As of right now, who would it be?”

Fuck!!

Aloud, keeping his voice as soothing as he could, Ren asked, “Does that matter anymore?”

“It matters to me.”

Haru nodded. “I think it matters, too.”

Expression tightening, Ren looked between the two of them. “I told you both before, I’m not going to place either of you above the other. I love both of you equally. If we’re going to be a polycule, then I absolutely don’t want to--”

“Shut up and tell me,” Goro snapped.

Ren grimaced. “You want there to be a ‘winner’ that badly?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Go ahead and say it,” Haru urged, gentle but firm. “I want to know, too.”

Ren glanced over towards Sojiro behind the counter. The Boss’s attention, however, was fixed firmly on the TV news. “Can’t it wait ‘til after the mission, like we agreed?”

“Stop stalling,” Haru said, eyes narrowing.

Ren grimaced again. “I’m not— Look, you two were worried it might interfere with the mission if I said. Remember?”

Goro and Haru exchanged a glance. This time, their expressions softened.

“That won’t be a problem anymore,” Haru said.

Goro nodded. “We’ve made our peace with each other.”

“You’ve made your peace, but you still can’t just accept what we’ve got right now?”

Haru shook her head. “It’s important to Goro-chan.”

“I want to know,” Goro insisted. “I need to know.”

Ren huffed a faint sigh. Maybe they’d gotten a little too close. No, that was a good thing, he decided. Goro getting a bug up his butt about winners and losers was one thing, but if Haru supported him pushing for that because it mattered to him, then it would probably work out all right no matter what. Still: “Then can I at least confirm, are you two okay with sharing no matter what I say? Are we a polycule no matter what?”

Haru nodded. “Yes. I’m okay with that.”

“I am too,” Goro said.

He relaxed. “Good. Then… and not that this matters, because I’m not choosing either of you over the other, but if in some hypothetical situation I absolutely had to…”

And then he hesitated. It abruptly occurred to him to wonder: should he lie? Goro would probably take it badly if he heard that Ren would have picked Haru, while Haru… she’d probably be upset, but she also seemed like she’d be able to take it in stride. Something about Goro seemed brittle right now. He’d come back from that phone call upset, too. Maybe he needed to hear something good right now. Something to soothe his ego.

On the other hand, wasn’t that kind of condescending? Telling Goro a sweet lie because Ren thought he couldn’t handle the truth? Maybe he was upset after that phone call, but he’d relaxed since, laughing and joking—and maybe he was pushing for a winner and a loser, but that didn’t mean he would freak out if he ‘lost.’ He still had his heart either way, and they both agreed they’d all be together no matter what. Lying would demonstrate a lack of trust.

Ren nodded to himself. Right. In the end, it was all about trust and respect. The only thing that would get that across was the truth. ...he hoped.

So: “Haru.” Ren met her eyes. “It’d be you.”

Haru’s back straightened. “Oh,” she uttered, cheeks pinkening.

Goro’s expression froze. “Oh,” he uttered, shoulders hunching.

Ren gave her a fond smile, and him a concerned frown. Please tell me I didn’t make the wrong choice. “Are we good now? Are you two satisfied?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling back. Concern clouded it as she glanced at her rival. “But…”

Goro bowed his head.

“Goro?” Ren reached for his hand. “You okay?”

The instant Ren’s fingers brushed Goro’s knuckles, Goro snatched his hand away. Fuck. He was definitely upset.

“You said you’d be okay,” Ren said. Fuck. That sounded really accusatory. He might be getting upset himself.

“Do you actually not want to share with me?” Haru fretted. “I really don’t mind sharing with you, if that’s what the problem is…”

Goro looked at her, expression unreadable, not because it lacked emotion, but because it was drunk on a cocktail of it. While Ren was sure Haru didn’t mean anything by it, it might just sound to Goro like the winner pitying the loser.

Finally, though, Goro settled on a sad little smile. “No… My problem isn’t with you, Haru-san.” His smile faded, and he met Ren’s eyes with a dead and hollow stare. “It’s with you.”

That was fair. How many issues did they still have that they’d never properly talked through? Ren just prayed the polyamory wasn’t one of them. “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“Ren Amamiya… I don’t want to be your man on the side.”

Oh, for— “You wouldn’t be on the side, you’d be equal,” Ren explained, making an effort to keep his tone level. “I promise. I won’t put either of you over or under the other.”

He smirked. It didn’t reach his chestnut eyes. “You’ve already put her over me.”

“Goro—”

“The truth is, you look down on me, don’t you?”

For fuck’s sake. “Where did you get that from?” he asked wearily.

“From Futaba-san. She told me the truth, you see.”

“The truth about what?”

“That you and your friends knew from the start who I really was.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Pancakes, apparently.”

Ren shut his mouth. Memory bloomed like a villain. “…oh,” he concluded quietly.

“So you don’t deny it,” Goro observed.

“Goro, wait. You’re blowing this out of proportion,” Ren protested, spreading his hands in an attempt to calm him down. “I don’t know exactly how Futaba phrased it, but—yes, sure, we realized right away something was off about you. But that doesn’t mean we’ve ever looked down on you. At least, I’ve never looked down on you.”

But his expression remained stony and bleak. “My father knew who I really was all along, too.”

Ren’s back stiffened.

“What?” Haru uttered.

“He, ha, confessed, when I went to speak with him the day after you all defeated me. He told me he’d known nearly from the start that I was his son, and he spent that entire time looking down on me.” He paused. “You don’t look very surprised.”

Ren and Haru exchanged a chagrined glance. She was the first to look back at Goro.

“We heard it from his Shadow,” she admitted. Ren nodded along. “The day we defeated him, I mean.”

“…I see.” He chuckled bleakly as he averted his eyes. “As usual, I’m the last to know. I really am a worthless detective.”

“Is this what those calls you got earlier were about? Back in the Jindai Gardens and again when we got here,” Ren wondered. The latter in particular had gone hard. Futaba lived right around the corner. If, rather than taking a phone call as he’d claimed, he’d actually gone to confront her… “That was when you started acting weird.”

“Heh. You’re not wrong.”

“I promise, I promise I don’t look down on you. I swear.” He reached across the table for him, but Goro didn’t reach back. Lightening his tone to make it sound like a joke, he added, “And hey, I’m actually pretty offended you’d put me on the same level as your shitty dad? Like, come on, you could think a little better of me.”

He laughed, which was good, but it sounded empty, which was bad. “You’re right. I’m sorry. The real problem isn’t you.” He shook his head. “It’s me.”

“Goro…”

“I’m no good for you. I’m no good at all,” he insisted. “You know that. We all know it. You already have Haru-san now. Why do you have to keep tormenting me with your pity?”

Ren resisted the urge to yank his own hair out. “Okay. Obviously you’re having trouble dealing with this. It’s fine,” he managed. “Let’s table it for now and talk again when you’ve calmed down. Can you still do the mission with Haru?”

Goro met his gaze, but this time, with flat anger in his eyes. “You’re talking down to me.”

Ren’s temper snapped the reins he’d tried to keep on it. He’d told the truth earlier specifically not to condescend to him, and Goro took it like that anyway?! “Can you do the mission or not?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Because you also said you were okay with us, and clearly you’re not!”

Goro pushed himself out of the booth and stood. “Do whatever you want. You’re the leader.”

Ren slid out too. “Goro, why are you acting like this?”

“I already told you the reason. Perhaps it wasn’t to your liking? Would some other pretty lie satisfy you better?”

“Goro!!” Ren grabbed his wrist. Goro twisted his hand around and broke Ren’s grip, but for a moment, their hands and eyes met. There, they lingered.

“I just hate to lose,” Goro said softly. “That’s all.”

Ren swallowed hard. “I see.”

Goro’s fingers opened, and something long and thin dropped into Ren’s palm. He looked down as Haru slipped out of the booth to join them and saw an unmarked thumb drive, opaque white and transparent red.

“That’s what I needed to give you earlier,” Goro explained quietly. “Consider it an apology for… everything I’ve done.”

He stroked his thumb down the drive. Then he nodded once and tucked it securely into a pocket.

A faint smile crossed his lips. He turned his gaze to Haru. “I’ll see you again when we complete the mission. Don’t worry; I’ll keep it professional.”

She nodded once, lashes low. “All right.”

“Goro,” Ren said quietly. “I still love you.”

His chestnut eyes widened. Then, with a tortured grimace, he looked away. “Don’t… don’t say that. This is hard enough as it is.”

“What’s hard enough?” he pressed. “What are you actually upset about, Goro?”

“How much I just don’t belong here.” He took a step back and looked him and Haru over. Then he broke into a despairing smile. “You two really do make a picturesque couple,” he noted. “The rogue and the heiress. Heh… It’s like something out of a fairy tale.”

This time, Ren didn’t try to argue. He just listened.

“You two don’t need to look at me like that. This is what I deserve,” he added. “I wish you both happiness together.” He turned away. “Good-bye.”

The bell over the door jingled as he left.

For a moment, the background noise of the TV news filled the air. Then Ren sighed and rubbed his head.

“I don’t understand what went wrong,” he murmured. Then he looked at Haru. “Sorry. That couldn’t have been comfortable for you to have to watch.”

“It’s not your fault.” Haru drew close to him and slipped her hands around his arm. “It was a little frightening. I thought--I thought we were all getting along. Then he spiraled so fast. It was a little like in the Cruise of Pride.”

He nodded slowly, pulling her into a brief one-armed hug even as he felt the weight of the thumb drive in his palm. “You’re right. Something had to have happened while he was out.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment. Then they pulled apart and re-seated themselves in the booth. “Maybe he just needs some more time to cool off,” she suggested, picking up her coffee cup. “You know Goro-kun tends to get… dramatic, when he’s upset.”

“I know that’s right.” Ren drained his cup. Then he eyed Goro’s abandoned cup, reached over, and took it for himself. “Maybe that’s for the best. I’m actually pretty mad at him right now.”

“I could tell. You yelled at him. Even when he came back screaming at you, you didn’t yell.”

Damn. She was right. Maybe they both needed time to cool down. He took a deep breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. “How about you? Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Will you be okay?”

He stared out the door into the night. His grip tightened around the thumb drive. “…Yeah. I just hope he will be, too.”

It was a bitter relief when Akechi could finally lock his apartment door behind him. He peeled his red boots off, only unlacing as far as he needed to pull himself out, and left them sagging in the foyer. From there, he flipped on the lights, stumbled into the bathroom, and stared at his reflection. He looked as wrung out as he felt.

Damaged goods. He was literally damaged goods. No, he’d always been damaged, cursed, evil; a worthless thing with no value or purpose. Now it was just physical as well as spiritual. And once the mission was done, no more than a week from now, he’d have nowhere to go. Nothing to do, no one to be. He could disappear and it wouldn’t matter to anyone. Maybe he’d actually disappear: cash out his bank accounts and run away to some podunk town up north where no one knew him. Where no one had ever heard of Goro Akechi. Where he could be a person, instead of an unwanted child. A secret criminal. A scandal on a timer, waiting to explode.

His eyes caught on the golden lettering on his black baseball cap: HERO. His lips curled as he stared at it, as if he’d never seen it before. As if he hadn’t deliberately picked it out to wear just that morning. His scope of vision widened, and he stared down from there at all of himself. At the ridiculous, gaudy hoodie he was wearing, bright red with an enormous golden star, at the clunky gold wristwatch and (particularly cringeworthy) necklace to match. When he’d originally coordinated that outfit, he’d been extremely fond of it. He hadn’t found an excuse to actually wear it until today, though.

What was it Ren had said? It was like he was trying to go incognito but had no concept of subtlety. Like he was begging the world to look at him. Akechi knew he’d meant that with affection, but looking at himself now, he made himself want to puke.

He ripped the hood back and hurled the cap onto the tile floor. The necklace followed it. He nearly broke the hoodie’s zipper getting it off, and it covered them both. The watch, he spiked on top of it all. He was left with torn, faded blue jeans and a black-and-white T-shirt. Akechi nearly pulled those off too, but he paused, looking again at himself. Without everything else, dressed like this, he almost looked… normal. Like any other teenager. Except… He stared a while longer at his tattered pants, at his prisoner-like top. Then he drifted out.

He could just imagine the trip. A train whistling through the falling snow, eventually dropping him off in front of a ferry to Sapporo. He’d go and find the tiniest, most isolated village he could, and he’d settle down. Be a respectable, contributing member of the community. People would smile at him, and he would smile back, and they’d be cautious at first, but he would win them over. He’d make friends. Maybe even get married. Eventually, no one would remember he was ever an outsider.

No one but him. And those friendships, that marriage, would always be marred, just as his fan base was marred, by the knowledge that none of them knew the real him.

He shouldn’t have asked Ren who he’d have chosen. He already knew the answer, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from melting down over it. But he had to know for sure. He needed so badly for Ren to prove him wrong. For him to be the one that Ren loved best, even as he loved them both. Now… Now he couldn’t stand to face him or Haru.

It only made sense, though. Damaged goods like him didn’t have a right to happiness.

It was long since dark out. His throat was parched, maybe from getting over-emotional earlier. From, ha, allowing his damage to manifest. Maybe something soothing to drink would be a good idea. He checked his fridge. Eggs and energy drinks. An energy drink would definitely not soothe him. He checked the pantry. Rice, tea, and coffee. He really didn’t want tea or coffee right now.

Was this all he had? When was the last time he went grocery shopping? He couldn’t remember. Definitely before the confrontation in Shido’s Palace. Maybe the beginning of the month? Maybe last month? He rubbed his temples. He really didn’t feel like going out to the convenience store. He grabbed a few delivery menus from their designated kitchen drawer, even though all he wanted was something to drink.

He brought them to the coffee table to rifle through and flipped on the TV for background noise. The news was on. That was normal; he usually had the channel on the news. He ignored it and attempted to decide what liquid to jam into his hateful meat shell. After skimming through three menus without interest, he sighed and tossed them aside. He flipped through channels. Nothing there interested him either. He turned the TV off and oozed down his overstuffed chair. An indeterminate amount of time later, he wandered back to the fridge.

“You should take better care of yourself, Akechi-kun,” Sae had once scolded him. He remembered as he stared back into the fridge, just as empty now as it had been back then. “I won’t tell you to keep your fridge fully stocked, but you should at least keep basic ingredients on hand. Enough to make a sandwich or the like.”

Who cares, he’d thought at the time. Outwardly, he had smiled prettily for her and said, “ I’m afraid I’m a very busy person. I would think you of all people would understand that, Sae-san. A convenience store sandwich has just as many nutrients as a home-made sandwich, and it takes a fraction of the time to procure. I do apologize for having nothing to offer you, though. Haha, I’ll have to make a note to stock up on drinks going forward, at least!”

She hadn’t argued the point, though she’d looked like she wanted to. And that had been that.

If he had his way, he’d prepare himself a nice cup of warm milk. He didn’t have any milk, so he wasn’t going to have his way. He wanted something warm to drink. Tea (Haru) or coffee (Ren) were his options. He’d rather forget he had either of them at all.

What a stupid waste of time, fussing over what I ‘desire,’ he thought all of a sudden. I don’t deserve anything good. I’ll never have it, and I never will.

Akechi fetched a glass from the pantry and poured himself lukewarm water from the tap. He took it to the dinner table. He peered down at his pale reflection.

Or maybe he could disappear disappear. Walk into Mementos and welcome the Reaper. No one would ever see or hear from him again. No one would even have to be troubled by funeral costs. Just… gone. As if the wretch called Goro Akechi had never existed.

But Haru had told him he needed to live and atone. And he didn’t want to disappoint her any more than he already had.

His fingers trembled. His eyes burned.

“Leaving was the right thing to do,” he told himself. “Ren and Haru will be happier in the long run if I’m not there. I couldn’t make them happy, anyway. Not normally, and especially not with me like--” He clawed the air around his head. “--like this. It’s better if I’m gone. A broken thing like me would just complicate everything. So I did the right thing. I… I know I did.” His voice caught, and he choked, “So why do I feel so awful?”

you feel awful because you’re a bad person and doing good things pains you

“Oh. Yeah,” he said hollowly. “Yeah, okay. Makes sense.”

He drained his water. He laid down his head. He wept.

After an indeterminate amount of time, his phone buzzed, jolting him upright. He checked it out of reflex. It was just a text from Ren asking for a mission update from everyone in the group chat. Akechi heaved out a breath, chest aching, and set the chat to ‘ignore’ for the time being. For lack of anything else to do, he checked his other texts and call history. As he scrolled through it, he noted the numbers he’d deleted and later restored. One in particular stood out to him. It felt like forever ago since they’d last been in touch.

How ‘bout it, kid? Why don’t you join our group? the yakuza ‘sweeper’ had asked him.

I appreciate the offer, but I couldn’t possibly. I made… a complete bungle of my last job.

Whatever. Youth is for fucking up now an’ then. Now you know better, eh? Anyway, if you change your mind, you know how to reach me.

Akechi stared at his number, thumb resting over the ‘send’ button. One last option: he could stay in Tokyo and change professions, as it were. The sweeper had said his people would take good care of him. Akechi had no doubt he was sincere, too. All they’d require of him… was to resume his life as an assassin.

He shut his eyes. No. That was the one thing he couldn’t do.

So then what? If he couldn’t run away, if he couldn’t choose death, if he couldn’t change careers, what was there left for him? What future did he have?

The answer to that was obvious. Criminals should face justice.

Akechi rang up a different number. “Hello, Sae-san?” he said once it connected. “Yes. There’s something we need to discuss.

“Yes.

“Yes.

“I want to turn myself in.”

Chapter Text

Everyone had finished up their Palace runs by Sunday, so Ren declared everyone would have Monday off to rest and recuperate, and then they’d send the notices Tuesday morning and make their move that night. Hopefully that’d give Goro time to calm down, too.

For his part, there was another reason he wanted some extra time before showtime. Goro had left before explaining what was up with that thumb drive he’d given him. He’d said it was important, that he should think of it as an apology for all he’d done. It couldn’t be related to the mission itself or he would’ve said so, but it still had to be big. He also potentially had Words for Futaba, but he needed to hear her side of things first.

He thus swung by the Sakura residence in the late morning, Morgana in tow. Futaba let him in, both into the house and her room.

“So what’d you want me to look at?” she asked, plopping down onto her computer chair.

He handed her the thumb drive and sat on her bed. Morgana climbed out of his bag and landed next to him. “Here.”

She accepted it and twirled around. “Y’okay. Gimme a sec.”

“While you’re doing that, there’s something I need to ask you,” Ren added.

Futaba was already typing at light speed. She didn’t look back at him. “Yeah?”

“What’d you tell Goro yesterday?”

“You mean Aketchy? Nothing.”

“He said you told him about how we figured out he was the ‘black mask.’”

“Oh, yeah, that. That was a few days ago. I think? I dunno, the days kinda blur together when you don’t have school. Definitely wasn’t yesterday, though. Why?”

It wasn’t yesterday? Ren furrowed his brows. That… actually made sense. It’d been two days ago that Goro had broken down crying in his arms after summoning him to give him that thumb drive. He’d indicated he’d been up all night working on something, presumably whatever was on there. Before that, he’d seemed pretty normal, so… “Was this maybe three days ago?”

“Could be. Sounds about right.”

“So you didn’t give him a call yesterday?”

“Hell no, I hate him and I hate talking on the phone,” she said promptly. Browser windows bloomed across her monitors. “I’d never call Aketchy unless I super-high-school-level absolutely had to.”

That made sense too. Looking back, when he’d asked Goro if that call was the cause of his sudden spiral, he’d said he was half right. He sighed and leaned back.

“What’s all this about, anyway?” Futaba added.

Morgana’s tail quirked. “Apparently Akechi became upset last night,” he said.

“So what else is new,” she said, eyeroll practically audible. “He’s been super emotional ever since we beat him up.”

Ren folded his arms around one leg. “Mm.”

The typing stopped. “Huh,” Futaba uttered.

He looked up. “What?”

“You should come over here and look at this.”

Ren exchanged a glance with Morgana. Then the not-cat hopped up onto his shoulder, and he walked over next to Futaba. Leaning over, they both surveyed what she’d brought up.

“It’s the details of a court case,” Futaba said, unnecessarily, as they read. “I don’t know much about it myself, but it sure looks like all the testimony and evidence from that case, along with new evidence. Including, uh.” She swirled the mouse, and the pointer circled around one of the documents. “New arguments?”

Ren stared. His heart broke into a sprint. “This is my case,” he whispered.

“…along with evidence of Shido’s misdeeds, new testimony from the woman you saved, and an outline of an argument for a retrial, plus contact information for several defense lawyers,” Morgana summarized. His ears pricked forward as he looked over at Ren. “If you contacted one of them after Shido confesses his crimes, you might be able to clear your name.”

“‘Might,’ nothing,” Futaba said. “With this much info, once Shido hits the media, it’d be an open-and-shut case.”

“You’re probably right,” Morgana agreed. “There’ll probably be droves of people rising up to press new claims against him. Ren—you could even be the first. Lead by example.”

He could. And once he won that case, he’d be free. He’d have his life back. His future back. His dreams back! He might not get back the friends he once had, but he could still shove it in everyone’s face that he was innocent all along. He could stand tall again, without having to hide his face in the shadows. The doors before him were all wide open once more. He couldn’t even begin to express how much this meant to him, how overwhelmed he was by his own emotions.

And it was all thanks to Goro.

Ren swallowed hard. Why do you keep pressing about this? he’d asked him.

Because giving up doesn’t suit you, he had promptly replied.

His hands curled into fists. You think it suits you any better? You stupid asshole!!

“Ren?” Morgana poked him with a paw. “Are you all right?”

He pulled off his glasses and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’m fine,” he croaked.

“You don’t look fine. You look like you’re crying,” Futaba observed. “What d’you want me to do with this stuff?”

He pushed his glasses back on and stood up. “Make back-ups.”

“Okay, but where’re you going?”

“A walk. I’ll be back.”

“’Kay.”

Ren managed to keep his pace even through the Sakura household, but once he was out the door, he broke into a jog. A run would’ve been even better, but the streets of Yongen-Jaya were narrow and even in midday there were people around. Morgana clung to his shoulder to keep from falling off, which meant digging his claws in, but Ren barely felt it.

“Wh-what’s gotten into you?” Morgana yelped.

Ren didn’t respond. He didn’t know how to explain that he just needed to move his body right then, so he didn’t bother. He did make himself slow into a brisk walk, though. Morgana didn’t speak again, so Ren absently stroked his head as he strode through the neighborhood and thought. After a loop and a half, he found himself passing by the Takemi Clinic. He almost walked right by like he already had twice, but he froze in midstep and stared over at it. Then he marched over and barged in.

“Well, if it isn’t my little guinea pig,” Tae said from behind the office window. “Something the matter?”

He strode over to her. “Doctor. That friend I brought in recently. Has he been by since?”

Expression unchanging, she replied, “Can’t tell you either way. That’d be a violation of client confidentiality. Why?”

Ren stared down at his feet for a couple seconds. Then he looked up. “I’m worried about him.”

“Oh? Has his condition gotten worse?”

It had and it hadn’t. Maybe Goro was just depressed after everything. Tae was a general practitioner, not a psychologist; would she be able to help? Still, who else could he ask? Ren hesitated, then nodded.

“You should tell him to check into a hospital, then. I don’t mind doing you or one of your friends a favor, but this is just a small clinic.”

A silent alarm pulsed in Ren’s head. Maybe half a year ago he could see her saying that, but now? After all that’d happened with Miwa-chan and Director Oyamada? Without knowing how much worse Goro was, wouldn’t she at least agree to see him again--assuming she hadn’t already?

He stared at her a moment longer. Tae’s poker face was perfect. A little too perfect.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” he lied. “While I’m here, could I pick up some meds?”

“Sure,” she said, rising to her feet. “Meet you in the other room, like usual.”

He nodded and moved toward the door. Before he entered, though, he murmured something to Morgana. Once Morgana agreed, he let him down, then went inside, positioning his feet to hide from Tae how Morgana snuck in behind him.

A few minutes later, medicine in hand, Ren left the clinic minus his feline companion. Ten minutes after that, he “remembered” he’d left his wallet behind and returned for it. This time, he left with his money and Morgana. Both of them remained silent on the walk back to the Sakura residence. Only after they were back inside and Ren sat at the foot of the stairs did either of them speak.

“What’d you find?” Ren asked softly.

“Not much. But there was a file for Akechi there, like you suspected,” Morgana replied. “I managed to take a peek inside, and I found some cranial X-rays.”

“And?”

“They didn’t look good. There were several pockmarks in the photos of his brain. I’m no expert, but… I don’t think Akechi is well.”

He’s been super emotional ever since we beat him u p, Futaba had said.

You should tell him to check into a hospital, then, Tae had said.

I already told you the reason. Perhaps it wasn’t to your liking? Would some other pretty lie satisfy you better? Goro had said.

Ren draped his back on the stairs and leaned his head back. At the top of the stairs, he spied a few threads of orange. Futaba hiding to listen in, most likely.

“You’re probably right,” he replied quietly. “He probably went to see Dr. Takemi yesterday. I doubt it was his first time back there, either.” Intuition flashed. “I bet that first call was from her. He got some kind of X-ray or scan or whatever, and she was calling him in to discuss the results. And the results were bad. But he’s refusing to go to the hospital.”

Morgana hopped up a few steps and sat next to his head. “If he went to the hospital, he wouldn’t be able to help with the mission.”

“Yeah.”

Morgana made a discomfited noise and twitched his tail. “It can’t be that bad,” he said bracingly. “He seems to be walking and talking just fine. Haru hasn’t said anything negative about his performance in Ooe’s Palace, either.”

Ren stared at the ceiling. “Maybe.”

He paused. “Ren? Are you all right?”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he sat up and clutched his chest. Why did Goro always have to try to suffer alone…? Why did he have to be so goddamned proud? Why didn’t he just tell him what was wrong? Did he think he was doing him a favor by leaving him in the dark and making him worry instead? Instead of talking to him like a normal human being, he just… just…

Consider it an apology for… everything I’ve done.

…gave him the key to his freedom.

“No,” he whispered. Ren swallowed hard. “But I will be.”

Morgana’s tail flicked the other way. “Okay.”

Ren got up and stared up the stairs, making sure to be loud enough to warn Futaba to retreat back to her room. If Goro needed space right now, he’d respect that. But once the mission was over… once everything was over… he needed to tell him how much what he’d done meant to him. He needed to make sure Goro really understood how much he loved him. And for that, he’d need help.

He needed Haru.

Haru knocked on Goro’s apartment door and waited for a reply. A moment later, the lock disengaged, and the door opened.

“We need to talk,” she said.

Goro gave her a dismayed stare. While she still wore her school uniform, having come here straight after classes, he’d already changed out of his into slacks, a sweater-vest, and a long-sleeved button-up shirt. At least, she hoped he’d gone to school. Over his casual clothes, he wore a kerchief on his head, an apron on his chest, and latex gloves on his hands. One of them held a dusting cloth. Then he stepped out of her way. She took that as an invitation and walked inside.

“I don’t recall ever giving you my address,” he remarked as he shut and locked the door behind her.

“Ren gave it to me last night after you left.”

“I see.” He followed her inside after she took off her shoes, then gestured at the couch. “Have a seat, then.”

She did so. Once she was settled, she looked around. Stacks of paperwork, games, books, and trinkets were lined up on the floor; the tables, bookshelves, and cupboards were bare. Goro knelt down at the coffee table in front of her, sprayed it with an aerosol cleaner, and wiped it down.

“As you can see, I’m in the middle of cleaning,” he said as he worked. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I can’t offer you anything to drink right now.”

“It’s all right. I’m sorry to interrupt,” she replied. For a moment, she watched him. When he moved on to the next piece of furniture, she added, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

This got a smile out of him, however wry. “What, are you going to call your house staff over and have them clean for me?”

She frowned. Or maybe it was more like a pout. Maybe. “I can at least make tea or coffee for you.”

His expression turned wistful for some reason. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my guest. More or less. If you want something to drink that badly, give me a moment to finish up here and I’ll make you something.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she insisted. “I wanted to talk to you about Ren.”

He sighed and resumed his work. “Did he send you?”

“He didn’t not send me, considering he gave me your address, but it was my idea and my decision to come.”

“What is there to say, even? You won. I lost. That’s all there is to it.”

“So you really were lying when you said you were okay with sharing?”

He paused, settling into a kneel. “You two are better off without me,” he said softly.

“Goro-chan…”

He rubbed his forehead. “Please don’t -chan me.”

“Goro-kun, then,” she said, frowning. “We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

He looked over at her, eyes wide. “We are?”

She nodded. “At least--I think so,” she added, feeling a bit awkward.

He said nothing. The pink in his cheeks and the shine in his eyes spoke volumes for him.

“And Ren cares for you so much,” she continued, encouraged. “Do you really think we don’t want you around?”

He bowed his head. “I killed your father. I killed countless other people. I can’t atone for that.”

“That didn’t stop you from accepting my challenge the other night,” she pointed out.

“That’s…” He paused. He swallowed hard. He started dusting the entertainment center and the electronics therein. “Thank you, for that. It truly made me happy that you took me seriously. I want you to know I don’t bear you any ill will, and I meant it when I said I hope you two find happiness together.”

“I believe you,” she murmured.

“Thinking on it, you might be the closest friend I have after Ren. Isn’t that sad?” He laughed, full of despair. “Barely a week ago we were at each other’s throats.”

Haru bowed her head in shame at the memory.

“I care about you both a lot. But I also…” His shoulders sagged. “I have too many issues. I’d just drag you two down and infect you with my misery. That’s why it’s better if I’m not there.”

She pursed her lips. Then, quietly, she got up and knelt down next to him. “That’s not true,” she murmured. “I have to confess: part of why I proposed our date yesterday was to settle my own feelings about you. And… we’re not just friends. You’ve become… dear to me.”

He stared down at her. “H-Haru-san?”

She met his eyes. “So it’s not just Ren. I--I want you there too. It truly isn’t the same without you.” She reached out and rested her hand on his. “Please. Reconsider.”

For a moment, he looked like he might cry. He ducked his head and turned his hand over to close his fingers gently over hers. “I…” His expression clouded, and he pulled away. “I-I can’t.”

“Why not?” she pressed gently.

For a moment, he pressed his fists into his thighs and said nothing. Then he sighed, and his whole body sagged. “Because once the mission is over, I’m turning myself in for serial murder,” he said quietly. “I’ve already talked to Sae-san about it.”

Her heart leaped into her throat. “What?”

“It’s only right that a criminal should be punished by the law for his crimes,” he murmured. “This is the only thing I could think of to do right by you.”

She clutched a hand to her chest. Goro, going to jail…? Before, she’d resented him so much for refusing to commit to accepting justice. Now that he had, she wanted to tell him to forget it. “This is what you’re doing to atone, then?”

He paused. Uncertainty flickered across his face. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“Do you think you are?”

“I don’t really know. It’s common sense to have a court of law judge a criminal, but you said you wanted me to live and atone.”

Haru furrowed her brows in confusion. “You don’t think you can atone in jail?”

He stared at her for a moment. “You don’t know, do you?” he said softly.

“Know what?”

He smiled briefly, there and gone like a ghost. Then he faced his pallid reflection in the freshly-polished TV screen. “In this country, serial killers get the death sentence.”

Haru clapped a hand over her mouth. Once she got a hold of herself, she stammered, “B-but minors can’t be sentenced to death!”

He nodded once. “So I was right. You didn’t know.” He pulled the entertainment center around, then started dusting the backs of the devices therein. “You’re not wrong about that, necessarily. But while legal adulthood is twenty in this country, the minimum allowable age for the death penalty is eighteen. In other words, those who commit sufficiently heinous crimes while age eighteen or nineteen can still be executed.” He straightened, then looked her in the eye. “I’m eighteen now.”

“G-Goro-kun…”

He smiled a little, though none of this was funny. “You might understand now why I was so reluctant to agree to turn myself in.”

She bowed her head. “…I do.”

“Even if by some miracle I weren’t sentenced to death, I would almost certainly go in for life without parole. And even if, by some other miracle, I was sentenced to life with a chance for parole, I’d have to serve at least ten years before I would be eligible for it. It’s likelier that I’d serve over thirty years first. I’m not saying I don’t deserve that,” Goro added. “But… hm.” He chuckled bleakly. “Actually, there have been instances of death row inmates waiting over thirty years to be executed. So you might be right after all. I could well spend a long time atoning in holding before I died.”

Haru said nothing. She twisted her hands in her lap.

“But based on your reaction, that’s probably not what you had in mind,” he murmured. He edged back as he set the entertainment system back into place. “What do you think I should do, then?”

“I…” She swallowed hard. “I-I don’t know.”

“…I don’t either, still. It feels like everything I can do is wrong. Maybe that’s because it is?” He gathered up his cleaning gear and moved to the bookcase on the perpendicular wall. “Nothing I do will bring the dead back to life. Perhaps turning myself in to the authorities is just self-satisfaction. A way to pass off responsibility for atoning to someone else.”

“Is this the real reason why you walked away? You feel like you don’t deserve to be happy?” she wondered quietly.

He laughed a little as he cleaned. “Do you think I do?”

Haru had no answer for that.

“Either way, I certainly don’t deserve a future with Ren. Or you,” he said softly. “I fought so hard for a horrible mistake I can never undo and a meaningless revenge I would never achieve.” Up and down, went the dust cloth; up and up and up and down. “It’s just all so… stupid. I’m stupid. A hopeless, worthless fool. And the more I think about it, the more exhausting it becomes. I just…” He paused. He rubbed his face with the back of his sleeve. “I want to do one good thing with my life before I’m gone. But I’m not sure I can. How can I, when I don’t know right from wrong? When I may never have?”

Haru clutched her arms to her chest. After a moment, she took a deep breath, then stepped gingerly over to Goro. When he didn’t openly react, she slipped her arms around his waist and leaned on his back. His body stilled, but his heartbeat surged. She didn’t know any better than he did what the right thing to do was, but she did know, finally, how she felt.

“Let me help you clean up,” she said gently.

He made a small noise of weary exasperation. “Haru-san, that’s not--”

She leaned back and turned him around. When he stared at her in surprise, she met his eyes with chin lifted and shoulders square.

“Let me help you clean up,” she commanded.

He blinked rapidly. “O-okay,” he finally managed. “Um…”

“Where’s the vacuum? I’ll run it where you’ve already dusted.”

With an air of bewilderment, he guided her to the broom closet and pulled the vacuum out for her. “I haven’t gotten far, though. I only started after getting home from school,” he said.

“Then we’ll get as far as we can for now,” she replied. “When it’s time, we’ll make dinner together, too.”

“I-I don’t really have much we can make--”

“Then we’ll pick up what we need from the corner store.”

“Why are you doing this?” he uttered. “You don’t need to bother with me.”

“Yes I do,” she countered.

“Why?”

Her expression gentled. She reached up to cup his cheek in one hand. “Because we’re friends,” she reminded him. Then she pinched that cheek and steeled her voice. “Now stop whining and do as I say!”

He stared for a moment longer; then he broke into a smile and a heartfelt laugh. She let him go and smiled back warmly.

“You really have gotten more assertive,” he observed with affection. “Somehow, it makes me feel better, too.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said warmly. “Shall we get back to it, then?”

He nodded, expression now at ease. “All right.”

On the way home, while watching the night sky pass from the window of her limousine, Haru received a call from Ren. She accepted it and said, “Ren, hello!”

“Haru,” he replied warmly from the other end. His tone turned serious: “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I love you.”

Her heart soared. Her voice caught in her throat.

“But,” Ren continued, “I don’t love you more than I love Goro.”

Her grip on her phone tightened. “Ren…?”

“You know the thumb drive he gave me yesterday? It was filled with information and evidence I’d need to clear my name in court. It—” His voice broke off for a second. “I can’t express how much that means to me. But the more I think about it, the more I can’t let things stand as they are. Haru, I love you. But I can’t be with just you. I have to be with Goro, too.”

Her heart kept racing. “Agreed.”

“I hope that doesn’t hurt your—wait, what?”

“I’ve finally accepted how I feel,” she replied. “I can’t be with just you either. I want Goro to be with us, too.”

A long pause. Then: “R eally?”

She burst into giggles. “Really.”

“Haru, you really are wonderful,” Ren effused. “Then let’s change his heart together.”

“Agreed,” she echoed affectionately. “I have an idea or two, if you don’t mind?”

“I sure don’t. Let’s figure this out.”

The mission was a resounding success. Goro took pride in that much, at least. Early Tuesday morning, an impromptu fireworks display went off over the Diet Building and delivered a blizzard of notices over the premises. Goro visited Shido’s inner circle in Shido’s office where they continued to congregate to confirm they’d each seen them. They had. When Ooe freaked out at him, he smiled and dutifully promised the foolish politician and his cohorts that he’d take care of matters. He kept his promise, too—just not in the way Ooe believed.

That night, each team synchronized their entrances and took on each boss Shadow, certain of victory. Sure enough, Goro and Haru, or rather Crow and Noir, stole the Shadow Pope’s Treasure with laughable ease.

There was just one thing, though.

“Blasphemer! Heathen! Judas!! How dare you betray your lord and savior?!” Shadow Ooe bleated, somewhere between furious and terrified, power smoking blackly off him in the wake of his defeat. Though Noir held his Treasure, he stretched a clawed hand out towards Crow. “God will mete out divine punishment to you for this!!”

“Of all the things I need to be punished for, this isn’t one of them,” Crow replied, flicking Shadow ichor off his serrated longsword. The weapon flaked into nothingness with it. “There is no God, ‘Your Holiness.’ There’s only man and his hubris.”

Shadow Ooe banged a fist and threw his head back in a wordless wail.

“Go back to your self,” Noir stated, standing stately as an empress next to Crow. “It’s time for you to repent for your sins.”

“Repent…? I? Repent?!” The Shadow banged his fist again, then hung his head. His miter toppled off and rolled away. “Ugh… Very well. I know I must concede defeat.” He pointed a finger at Crow, grimace grim as his form began to fade. “But beware, traitor of Shido. If there is no God and His divine punishment, then what awaits you is only the malice of we who are desperate not to lose power.”

Crow rolled his eyes as Shadow Ooe vanished. “Whatever.”

After that, it was a mad dash down the clocktower, then a somewhat more leisurely dash past the pews and out the cathedral doors as the Palace crumbled. From there, reality wobbled and warped around them, and Crow and Noir became Goro and Haru once more, the latter holding—

“The Constitution of Japan?” she wondered, turning over in her hands the document that had a moment before been an elaborately decorated Bible.

“Looks like there’s been several ‘amendments,’” Goro observed wryly, peering over her shoulder at the several black marks and handwritten edits on said document. “It seems you all won’t be selling this for anything.”

“You mean we won’t be selling this for anything,” Haru replied, meeting his eyes.

He blinked; then he gave her a slow but sincere smile. “…Point.”

She smiled back. With care, she folded up the fake Constitution and slipped it into her purse. “Do you think any of the others have finished yet?”

He shrugged. “We took our time with it, but we still took Ooe’s Shadow completely by surprise. The others wouldn’t be so lucky.”

She pursed her lips and moved to one side of the Diet Building entrance. “Do you think we ought to go support them?”

“Mmm…” He held a hand to his chin as he joined her. “I don’t know that we’d make it in time to be of any use. It might be better to stay here and keep an eye on things. If Ooe’s heart has changed first, that might cause the others to panic.” He remembered Shadow Ooe’s final words. As flippantly as he’d responded at the time, they gave him a bad feeling. “It wouldn’t do for any of them to try anything… rash.”

“Good point. Then—after you?”

He nodded, then led her inside. As a relatively familiar face in the Diet Building in the company of a well-known client of his, no one stopped them more than a moment. Even the guards outside Shido’s office stepped aside.

Inside, not just Ooe but the other three targets were bawling messes. The psychiatrists and researchers once in Shido’s pocket were also messes, albeit in a different way. The head researcher did a double-take at him and even had the nerve, or perhaps the desperation, to grab Goro by the lapels.

“What’s going on?! You said you had this handled!!” he hissed, white-faced. “They all turned into—into this within minutes of each other! The entire organization will crumble now!”

Goro delicately, deliberately removed his hands. “I did handle it,” he replied pleasantly. “And, by the look of things, quite magnificently, might I say.”

“You didn’t—you didn’t—oh no.” The head researcher blanched as he backed away, looking between him and Ooe and the others. “You sold out to the Phantom Thieves?”

“Considering they didn’t pay me anything, ‘sold out’ is hardly the correct term,” Goro replied. The remaining extra personnel gaped at him in horror. He basked for a few seconds, then continued, “If you’re concerned about what’s going to happen to you all next, though, perhaps you could use this time to… jump ship?”

The head researcher and other personnel exchanged glances. Then, almost as one, they stampeded for the exit. Goro and Haru parted to let them. A moment later, they had the run of the office. The four sobbing heaps on the two mini-couches, while loud and annoying, certainly weren’t going to stop them from doing as they pleased.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?” Haru remarked with a smile.

Goro laughed and strode over to what had once been Shido’s posh desk chair. He heaved himself into it, and it twirled from the impact. “If I’m to be Judas, I may as well enjoy my ten silver.”

She giggled and joined him. At first next to him, he thought; then she stopped the spin of his chair and draped herself on his lap. Startled, he blinked up at her. She smiled down at him and stroked his cheek, and he smiled back and let her do as she pleased. God, this was deeply satisfying. Revenge hadn’t taken the form he’d plotted and planned for, but it was good all the same.

“Now all we need is Ren,” she murmured aloud.

He blinked again. Then, feeling his face heat, he laughed awkwardly. “You mean all you need is Ren, of course.”

She clucked her tongue. “You don’t sincerely think we gave up on you?”

His face heated further. “I—well—”

She smiled like an angel and tapped the tip of his nose. “Ren and I spoke last night, after I left your place. We agreed we’re not having any more of your nonsense. After this, you, he, and I will be talking together to figure out what you’ll actually be doing now.”

“But I already told you, I need to turn myself in—”

He cut himself off when she moved her fingertip to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, she shifted her legs to trap his between them, then pinned his wrists to the chair’s arm rests. He gave a token struggle that ended when she leaned in so close her lips were only a breath away.

“Do as I say,” she whispered.

A thrill fluttered through his heart. What was this…? This went beyond assertive to commanding, like an empress. And somehow, he liked it. To submit to someone who knew his true self and still wanted him, demanded him—it was a hell of a buzz. Had Ren asked her to do this? Or was it her own idea? Either way, he couldn’t help but smile.

“All right,” he whispered back.

She returned his smile and, to his mild disappointment, eased away. “Let’s check in, then,” she murmured. She pointed her chin towards Ooe and the others. “If all their hearts have changed, that means everyone made it through all right, after all.”

He glanced at the sobbing messes. Ha, at least there were some people he could still feel superior to. “No arguments here.”

She pulled her phone from her purse, then pulled up the group chat. He rested his head on her shoulder as she typed, eyelids drifting shut. This was so nice. So, so nice… Maybe he could afford to take a catnap while Haru talked to the others… …

A sharp little gasp made him shoot his head upright. “What’s wrong?”

Haru’s face was pale. In lieu of an answer, she showed him the chat. One line from Ryuji leaped out at him and stabbed him through the heart:

Ren’s been kidnapped.

“WOOHOO! HEEELLL YEAAAHHH!” Ryuji whooped, leaping up and punching the air as he spun down the sidewalk.

Ren smiled at him as they walked, or in Ryuji’s case, partied. Their fight had been a hard, fast, and intense one, but they’d come out the winners with the Treasure in tow. Now apparently Ryuji was high on the adrenaline. Not that he could blame him.

“C’mon, dude!” Ryuji crowed, clapping Ren on the shoulder. “We just two-manned a Palace! We rocked that Shadow! Show some enthusiasm!”

“We were awesome,” he agreed, smile broadening into a grin.

“DAMN RIGHT WE WERE!!” He punched the air again with a backward two-step. “What d’you think we should do when we meet up with everyone? Sushi? Nightclub? Picking up girls??”

“Ryuji, you know we’re too young to go clubbing. And the girls would probably not like that.”

“A guy can dream!! And I’m pretty sure Mako and Ann would like it plenty.”

Ren snorted and laughed. A van cruised up the street to his left. “We’ll figure it out with everybody else. ‘Sides, it’s getting late. We’re not gonna sell off the Treasure tonight.”

“We could!! If we got lucky.” Ryuji snorted. “Nah, you’re right, it’ll be for another night. Damn, though! That might be the coolest thing we’ve ever done.”

“I dunno, I think the nationwide notice was pretty up there.”

“True!” Ryuji grinned as he fell in step with him. “So c’mon, man, what d’you wanna do to celebrate?” He leered, half joking, half actually perving. “Or who d’you wanna do~?”

Ren choked, then waved a hand and laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh c’mon, Ren-Ren, don’t tell me you’re trying to hide it from your best bud!” He elbowed him. “Literally everybody knows about you and Haru and Akechi.”

He coughed into one hand. “Literally everyone?”

“Well, like, everyone in the team, anyway. You guys’ve just had this electricity around you, you know?”

“So who actually clued you in?”

“…Ann, but only ‘cuz I asked her a million times what was up with you guys!”

Ren palmed his forehead and shook his head, but smiled. Well, as long as Ryuji wasn’t getting weird about it.

“So come on dude, who’re you picking!” Ryuji insisted.

Clearly Ann hadn’t told him everything, at least. Ren opened his mouth to tell him he wasn’t going to be picking, but a thought stopped him. “It doesn’t bother you I might pick Akechi?” he asked instead.

He paused, then shrugged. “Well, it weirded me out at first. But then I thought, if a dude’s going to get with another dude, it may as well be a dude as pretty as him.”

“Don’t try to steal him from me. I don’t think you’re his type,” Ren joked.

“I wasn’t gonna!!” Ryuji huffed. His expression clouded. “So… does that mean you’re not picking Haru?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He briefly described the date the three of them had, the drama (minus the private details), and how he and Haru had agreed to convince Goro to go for a polycule after all. Another van, maybe the same one, passed by as he spoke.

Ryuji choked by the end of it. “You wanna get with both of them?! You fucking horndog! I can’t believe you! Save some for the rest of us!!”

“Oh, so you want to get with Akechi after all?”

“NO!!” Ryuji mock-punched him and swiveled away several steps to glare at him while walking backwards.

Ren laughed and pulled out his phone. No messages in the group chat yet, but he trusted the others to have come through. “Just kidding. All this was supposed to’ve been private, though, you know,” he added dryly.

“Hmph! I see how it is. You don’t wanna hit up ol’ Ryuji for love advice,” Ryuji play-huffed, spinning forward and folding his arms behind his head. “Fine, see if I care if you crash and burn!”

Ren clutched his chest dramatically, never mind that Ryuji couldn’t see him do it. “So you don’t care what becomes of me? Woe! Woe and tragedy. I am distraught.” He gave Ryuji’s back a crooked grin as they passed an alleyway, wherein a couple of guys were smoking and drinking. “Seriously, dude, if it were you, who would you go to, you or Ann?”

“………Ann, but that’s not the point! The point is that—”

As Ryuji went on, the van that had passed by twice glided into a park at the curb, smooth as butter, despite the fact that there was a sign right there saying NO PARKING. Distracted by it, Ren glanced its way with a frown, and so never saw the man who grabbed him coming.

What happened next went so fast it was almost a blur. He dropped his phone and heard it clatter on the sidewalk—absurdly, he hoped it hadn’t cracked—as a huge, beefy hand clapped a damp cloth over his nose and mouth. Ren struggled and started to shout, but as soon as he breathed, his consciousness swam and his limbs turned to rubber. Distantly, he heard Ryuji screaming his name and cursing. A hard, thick thud. The metallic roll of a sliding car door. His body thudded—his glasses skewed, and behind their false lenses he saw the van’s interior—and then he passed out to the sound of the door slamming shut and wheels squealing into motion.

Goro grabbed Haru’s phone from her shaking, unresisting fingers. He didn’t type in a message of his own; he didn’t have to. He scrolled up, eyes darting at lightning speed, then down again. In real time, he felt the blood drain from his face, felt Haru’s watching eyes. He handed the phone back to her. She stood up and, pacing a tight ellipse, read the rest of Sakamoto’s recounting for herself.

Not that it would make a difference. While the one stranger had yanked Ren into an unmarked black van with tinted windows, the other had fist-fought Sakamoto until the cops had come running, then run off himself. Sakamoto had had no choice but to grab Ren’s phone, which had fallen during the scuffle, and flee as well. Now he was half-beaten and Ren was gone.

“Who would do this? Why now?” Haru whispered, covering her mouth with one hand.

“I… I don’t know,” he murmured. His brain had gone numb. As Haru said, it didn’t make sense. The chair in which he sat suddenly felt far too broad for him.

“What are they going to do to him? Are they going to issue a ransom? Who would they issue it to? Sojiro-san isn’t rich, and Ren doesn’t have any family in this city that knows he’s here! Does he?”

“I don’t know.”

Haru rounded on him. “How can you not know?! You’re a professional detective!”

“I don’t KNOW!” He shot to his feet. Shido’s chair rolled away and bumped into the wall; Akechi only clutched his head. “Don’t you get it by now?! I’m a fake! A fraud! I was never a real detective! I only—played one on TV! I can’t do anything about a mystery I didn’t engineer in the first place!”

She grabbed one of his wrists. “You have to!”

He tried to yank away. “I can’t!!”

She grabbed his other wrist and yanked him back. “You HAVE to! Listen to me!” she commanded.

He stared at her. She stared back, eyes frightened yet hot and defiant.

“You have to,” she repeated, low and urgent. “Fraud or not, you have real cunning and intelligence. If anyone can figure this out, it’s you. Besides…” She slipped her hands around his. Distressed pleading came out in the lines around her eyes and mouth. “Ren needs you. I need you. Please, help us.”

For an eternity, she held his gaze and his hands. Holding them back, Goro slowly nodded. Funny. Not that long ago, he’d observed to Shido that the Phantom Thieves revolved around, nay, orbited their leader. That without him, they’d panic and fall apart. If Ren’s loss affected him this badly too, did that mean he was finally a genuine part of the team? Or was it simply another expression of his traumatic brain injury?

Either way, her declaration of need helped reassure him. He couldn’t afford to fall apart. The stakes could well be Ren’s life. “Right. All right,” he said aloud to collect himself. “Let’s take this one step at a time. Ask Sakamoto if he remembers any other details, like what those men looked like or anything they might have said.”

She squeezed his hands. It was a deep comfort, so he squeezed back. She smiled briefly before pulling away to pick up her phone. He folded his arms, held his chin, and sorted through his still semi-scattered thoughts.

Ren had been grabbed by burly men who pulled him into an unmarked van. They didn’t take Sakamoto too, nor had they killed him, which meant both that they were specifically targeting Ren and they didn’t care if there were witnesses. The description of the kidnapping indicated that they were organized and had thought this through, so the fact that they left a witness meant they were reasonably certain they could get away with it, even if Sakamoto spoke to the police.

One possibility reared up like a snake from the grass, and its venom was dread. He looked over Haru’s shoulder at the chat for Sakamoto’s answers.

I didn’t get a good look, but big, burly. Didn’t say much, but they had real asshole attitudes . Surprisingly well-dressed? B ut not that well-dressed , he’d told Haru. Suits, open collars, no ties, gaudy necklaces. I remember trying to grab the one dude by a big old gold chain before he punched me in the face.

At Goro’s request, Haru texted back, So, like low-ranking yakuza?

Yeah! And then: Oh . And then: Oh shit.

The sweeper, Futaba stated simply.

It couldn’t be, Makoto argued. His Shadow indicated he was pulling out once Shido’s defeat was imminent.

Yusuke suggested, Could this perhaps be someone’s revenge for Kaneshiro?

As the others went back and forth on who might be the culprit, Goro strode around Haru and towards Ooe and the others.

“Goro-kun?” Haru said at his back.

He didn’t respond at first, opting instead to stop next to Ooe where he sat on one of the mini-couches and glare down at him. The once-confident politician was a shattered shade of his past self, sobbing into his hands like the other three. As Haru came up next to Goro, Ooe finally noticed them.

“Akechi-kun,” he croaked. He grabbed him by the school uniform, though the tailored jacket offered little give. “Akechi-kun! Thank God you’re here! I’ve made a terrible mistake!”

“What did you do,” Goro growled.

“I contacted S-san.”

He tensed. That was the sweeper’s code name. For Sweeper, or maybe Sneak, or maybe Shithead, as another Prince of Chaos had once said.

Oblivious, Ooe burbled on, “If the Phantom Thieves had reached far enough into our Palaces to deliver notices to each of us, I’d thought that the chances were too great that they would change our hearts! If I couldn’t stop that, then I got the idea in my head that I would at least see to it their leader was punished!”

Haru shot Goro an alarmed look. Goro’s hands closed into fists.

“You asked S-san to kidnap the suspected leader of the Phantom Thieves,” he concluded. “Call him up and cancel it, then.”

“I can’t!!” Ooe wailed, fingers curled into claws. “How could I have done something so spiteful? So malicious? I paid S-san specifically not to cancel, no matter what! Just so I couldn’t cancel if my heart were changed! That suspect was only a teenage boy…!”

If there is no God and His divine punishment, then what awaits you is only the malice of we who are desperate not to lose power.

Goro began to shake.

“What’s going to happen to R—to that boy?” Haru demanded, fear undercutting her anger. “After he’s kidnapped, then what?”

Ooe’s head sank. “That’s the worst part. I asked him… I paid him… to torture that boy to his limits—and then kill him.” He buried his face in his hands. “How could I? I can’t possibly undo this! I made sure of that myself!”

“You piece of shit,” Goro hissed. He grabbed Ooe by the lapels and shook him violently, as if by doing so he might exorcise himself of his rage and terror. “How dare you? How dare you?! How DARE YOU!!”

Haru in turn grabbed him as Ooe’s cohorts recoiled from him. “Goro-kun, stop it! This won’t help!” When Goro stilled, she leaned in and whispered, “It just happened. We can still stop it. Don’t lose your temper.”

He took a deep breath, two, three, and nodded. She was right. He dropped the still-shaking politician, then leaned over him. “Where did S-san take him?” he demanded coldly.

“I-I don’t know,” Ooe quavered. He teared up anew. “I specifically asked him not to tell me the details. I didn’t want anyone to be able to stop it…”

Goro resisted the urge to scream and drive his fist through his face. Control. He needed to maintain control. He reached for Haru, and she took his hand. It helped even more than he’d expected. “Give me your phone, then. I’ll handle it.”

Ooe obeyed. “Please, you have to stop S-san before the worst happens to that poor boy,” he begged. “You might have failed against the Phantom Thieves, but there’s no one else I can rely on.”

He eyed him. Then he pulled up the call history as he returned to the desk. Haru followed.

“Do you think this S-san will listen to you?” she murmured.

“I might get him to listen long enough for us to find Ren,” he murmured back. “But if you mean, is he going to release him just because I asked? No.”

She clutched his sleeve. “I was afraid of that.” She paused. “Do you think he would if we offered a, a, a counter-payment?”

He considered the list of numbers in the call history. There was one where the numbers were privacy-blocked. His thumb hovered over the SEND button. “Maybe. I don’t know.” He paused in turn. “Could you please ask Futaba-san to listen in? Our best hope is to have her track the call.”

“Right,” she said, and started texting furiously.

Goro gave her a moment, as much for her sake as to calm his own nerves. Ren needed him. Haru needed him. Failure was not an option.

Eventually, Haru nodded to him. She’s ready, she mouthed, unnecessarily. He nodded back and hit SEND. Several raucous heartbeats later, the line connected.

“It’s me,” said the man on the other side, same as always.

Keeping his tone pleasantly neutral, Goro asked, “Have you heard the news?”

“Oh, it’s you,” he replied in surprise. “What’re you doing on this line?”

“Its owner asked me to contact you on his behalf about the request he made of you today.”

“Hmm… And?”

“What is the status?”

The man chuckled. Wood creaked, and the scratch of a lighter sounded. “Easy, easy. These things take time.”

Goro shot Haru a glance. She looked back at him with worried eyes, phone held up and toward him, chatroom open, a sub-window likely from Futaba minimized in one corner. “So in short, it’s in progress?”

“We’ve got the kid in custody. He’s all tuckered out from the pick-up, so the real work starts when he wakes up from his nap.”

“I see.” Low-level thugs had done the actual ‘pick-up,’ so… “You didn’t delegate something this important to a subordinate, did you?”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’m giving it a personal touch.”

“So he’s with you.”

“Lookin’ at him right now.”

Goro gave silent thanks to whatever gods were listening. In response, muffled in the distance, he heard a deep, brief honk on the other line, as if from a ship horn.

Apparently unperturbed by it, the sweeper added, “You wouldn’t think a kid this young could cause so much havoc, but then, you turned Tokyo on its ear too, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t do nearly anything so spectacular.”

He chuckled. “True. You were way more subtle. So? Is that it?”

“Not quite.” Goro had an idea of where they might be in case Futaba couldn’t track the call, but he needed more detail. May as well try the simple way, if only to buy time. “Our mutual acquaintance has had a change of heart. He wants to cancel the request. How viable is that?”

“Yeah, he figured he would. Sorry, kid, but I already did the pick-up, and he paid me up front. I don’t have a reason to cancel.”

“You can keep the money,” Goro said, flexing and unflexing his free hand. “If the boy is still ‘napping,’ you can just drop him off somewhere and be done with it.”

“Tempting. But no.”

“No? Why not?”

“‘Why not’? You oughtta know better than anyone how much this kid is worth to the right people.”

“‘The right people’ have all undergone a change of heart, I’m afraid.”

The sweeper laughed. “You’re thinkin’ of the wrong people. I’m talking about the old men.”

Goro froze up. His thoughts, however, raced through the implications.

“Anyway, he’s starting to wake up, so I’ve got work to do.”

“Wait,” he said, sharper and more desperate than was good for him or Ren. “Could I make you a counter-offer?”

“Now why would you wanna do that?”

Goro didn’t like the note of amusement in S-san’s voice. It gave the impression that he thought of him as a child. No, he straight up did think of him as a child, didn’t he? He as much as said so not five minutes ago. Well, fine. Even Goro knew he had a childish side, though he loathed to admit it. He may as well play to expectations.

Letting a note of petulance ring back, he thus replied, “He’s my rival.”

Sure enough, S-san exploded into uproarious laughter. Goro scowled at the phone as he held it a foot from his ear. Haru’s suddenly pursed, slightly upturned lips didn’t improve his mood; neither did Ryuji commenting Typical Akechi in the chatroom to general consensus.

“All right, all right. I get it, kid,” S-san eventually drawled. “Since you insist so hard, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m not planning on killing your rival here.”

Goro and Haru shared a surprised glance. “You’re not?”

“He’s got that same power you do, right? Damn shame to let it go to waste.” The tinny, hollow thwocks of an aluminum baseball bat meeting a palm sounded. “Of course, I’m not above convincing him if he gets… fussy.”

Goro’s stomach flipped, and for an instant, he felt weightless. Dizzy. Somehow managing to keep his voice level, he asked, “And if he stays ‘fussy’?”

“Then I guess he’ll get an oil tub tour of the bottom of Tokyo Bay after all. Can’t go letting a threat to the old men run around while he’s right here. Ah, but you wanted dibs, though, right?”

He swallowed hard. “That’s right.”

“Did you think at all about my offer?”

His shoulders tensed. Voice tight, he said, “I… hadn’t.”

“Maybe you should, eh?” Thwock. Thwock. “Only family members get to call dibs, after all.”

Goro ground his teeth.

“Anyway, I really gotta go, kiddo. Talk to you later.”

The line disconnected before Goro could speak. He slowly, carefully lowered the smartphone to the desk; it was, after all, an important piece of evidence. Then he grabbed Shido’s stapler and hurled it onto the floor instead.

Haru grimaced. “What did he mean by his offer?”

“When I cut ties with Shido, S-san asked me if I’d work for his yakuza ‘family’ instead,” he seethed. “I turned him down, but he left the offer open.”

“Couldn’t you fake accepting the offer to get Ren back?”

He touched one hand to his forehead. “You remember he’s a professional killer, right? Far more experienced than me. And the yakuza don’t suffer disrespect lightly.”

Haru’s gaze flicked down. “So now what?”

He pressed a gloved palm to his forehead. “…We find them.”

“But where—?”

“They’re somewhere on the water, next to the bay,” Goro replied, folding his arms tight. “A wooden building, so something old. Something on the docks, perhaps.”

Haru turned her phone around. “Futaba-chan, did you get that?”

“Sure did,” Futaba’s voice sounded. “I think I can narrow it down.”

Relief flooded Goro. “You can?”

“Yeah, I managed to hack the old fart’s line for a li’l bit before he hung up. Couldn’t get a lot, but I at least got a general idea of where he is. Gimme a sec and I’ll take what Aketchy said and try to pin it down.”

He let out a long breath. Good. Good. But not good enough. Not yet. “Futaba-san, are the others with you?”

“Nope. One sec, I’ll set up a conference call for you.”

True to word, it only took a second for a conference to connect. Makoto was the first to speak, with a crisp, sharp, and distinctly tight-wound, “Hello?” Yusuke, Ryuji, Morgana, and Ann rapidly chimed in.

“Mako-chan, it’s us!” Haru said, glancing quickly at Goro. “We’ve almost figured out where Ren is. What should we do after that?”

“I-I don’t know. I don’t lead, I advise,” she replied. Even her voice sounded ashen. “I do know we can’t call the police; they’d arrest him as soon as look at him.”

“Ryuji, where are you right now? Are you gonna be okay?” Ann piped up, sounding worried.

“I’ll be okay when we find Ren,” he growled, sounding strained.

“I’m working on it, okay?” Futaba grumbled, sounding frazzled.

The others spoke over and around each other for a moment. Goro bit his thumbnail through his glove. He’d been right about everyone falling apart without Ren’s leadership. Haru looked even more emotionally frayed now than before, and he was no leader himself… He was either a follower or a lone wolf, but never a leader. This two-person team notwithstanding.

—Wait. This two-person team… A light bulb clicked on in his head, and he brushed Haru’s shoulder. When she startled and stared up at him, he mouthed, D estroy.

She kept staring for a second or two. Then her gaze steeled, and she nodded once. A deep breath, then: “Everyone, be quiet!!”

It took a few seconds, but the others quieted down. Haru grinned, blinking rapidly and wide-eyed, and then looked back at Goro.

“We need to consider this calmly,” he said, tense but outwardly quite even. If there was anything he was good at, it was fake-it-’til-you-make-it. “Since we can’t rely on the police, we must handle this ourselves. Futaba-san, what equipment are you using right now?”

“Laptop and good ol’ ‘public’ wifi,” she said promptly over the clack-clatter-clack of rapid typing. “Brought it along just in case.”

“Kitagawa, Morgana, you’re with her?”

“Yes,” the two chorused.

“Escort her to somewhere safe. Not Leblanc; if things go wrong, that’s where the police will search first. Somewhere like…”

“Mako-chan’s?” Haru suggested.

“That could work. Sis will understand,” Makoto said promptly.

Haru breathed out a sigh, one hand on her chest. Then she squared her shoulders. “Then, Mako-chan, you and Ann-chan should pick up Ryuji-kun and meet up with the others at your place.”

“But what about you and Akechi-kun?”

“We’re going to save Ren,” she replied, firm and unyielding.

Makoto uttered, “Just the two of you?”

“It’ll be easier to close in as a small group,” Goro said, shooting Haru a sharp glance. He personally would have preferred to go alone, but he couldn’t argue the point with her now without undermining the momentum they’d built up. “One to distract the enemy, one to get Ren away.”

Morgana protested, “I can’t let you do that! It’s too dangerous. Let me come. I can scout better than any of you.”

That was certainly true, but Goro shook his head anyway. “Time is of the essence. We can’t wait for you. Ren’s life may depend on it.”

“But—!”

“Mako-chan,” Haru interrupted, “you just received your driver’s permit, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Once you and the others have gathered at your place, could you and Mona-chan drive over to back us up? Depending on how things go, we might need a quick getaway.”

“Got it,” she said sharply.

“What about the rest of us?” Yusuke asked.

“Hold down the fort and patch Ryuji-kun up,” Haru replied.

“Hey, I’m not that beat up,” Ryuji protested.

“Take the patching, Sakamoto,” Goro said. “We’ll likely need a first aid kit handy for Ren anyway.”

No one debated his pitch black argument.

Clickety-clackity-clack. “G-got it,” Futaba announced. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Goro and Haru chorused, shoulders brushing as they leaned in.

Chapter Text

Muffled, wobbly sound… Dim and distant light… After his consciousness meandered into the early stages of awakening as if through a thick fog, the wee hours of the morning greeted him with a bucket of ice water to the face. Literally.

Ren choked and sputtered and coughed, now very much awake as his glasses hung askew. The sounds and lights resolved with clarity, and he lifted his head to peer at a dingy warehouse-looking place, if the tall ceiling full of steel beams and the haphazardly stacked columns of crates every which way were any indication. At ground level with him loomed a few tall, beefy guys in suits. He recognize one of them, though they’d never met before, thanks to the Shadow in Shido’s Palace. That one smiled at him around a cigarette, lavaballing on a folding chair as he tapped an aluminum bat on one hand. Ren tried to get up and realized he was tied to his own folding chair. Tied good and tight, as a moment’s struggle informed him.

Well, fuck.

“Morning, sunshine,” the sweeper drawled. “Well, it’s still dark out, so more like starshine, huh?” His two companions—underlings?—snickered. One of them held an empty bucket. Asshole. “Anyway, right now you might be feelin’ a little confused. Am I right?”

Actually, Ren had a pretty good idea of what was going on. He glowered at him and said nothing.

“Ooh, scary! You must think you’re real tough if you’re looking at me like that.” The sweeper set the bat down like a cane and rested his hands on the top. “I’ll keep this real simple for ya, starshine. You’re here, and I’m here, because someone out there in the big wide world wants you very, very dead.”

Ren clenched his jaw. Yeah. That checked out.

“They don’t just want you dead, though. They want you to suffer real hard for a real, real long time. Begging for the sweet release of death, sort of thing.”

A weird, fluttery feeling flopped around in his gut. Despite the cold, sweat beaded on his face. He kept his expression poker-still. Hopefully they wouldn’t notice with him already drenched.

“Mm, mm, mm.” The sweeper shook his head, exuding an air of amusement. “Kids these days, makin’ powerful enemies like that. An’ not even blubbering and begging for mercy when they get caught!” He winked. “Or maybe it’s just you?”

“What do you want from me?” Ren asked, low and flat.

“Hey, hey, look at you! You are bright, starshine.” The sweeper nodded to his guys in turn. “You, head outside and keep watch. You, cover the door.”

The thugs chorused their assent, then loped away out of sight through a gap in the towers of crates. The exit, Ren marked. The sweeper watched them go, then met Ren’s glare again. He made a show of putting his cigarette out on his neck. It brought Ren’s attention to the edge of the sweeper’s tattoo, peeking just over the collar of his suit. Guess he didn’t need Yusuke’s art after all.

“So I’ll get straight to the point,” the sweeper said, rising to his feet and resting his bat on his shoulder. “You’re the leader of the Phantom Thieves, which means you’ve got special powers. Agree to work under me usin’ those powers, an’ I’ll let you live.”

Ren swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Metal arced through the air and connected with Ren’s left arm. Pain blossomed. He’d gotten hurt worse in the Metaverse—it would bruise, but nothing was broken—but surprise made him cry out anyway. He grit his teeth and glared at the sweeper anew.

“Wrong answer,” the sweeper said, unfazed. “Try again.”

“You’ve got the wrong guy,” he insisted, voice low, heart hammering.

The sweeper sighed, then cracked a hit on his right arm. It hurt a hell of a lot more but still hadn’t broken anything. A flash of insight told Ren that his assailant was holding back. The more he denied it, the likelier he would end up with broken bones, or worse.

“Why do you think it’s me?” he croaked anyway.

The sweeper swung again for his right arm. Ren tensed, preparing for the strike—but it never landed. The baseball bat slowly eased away. Ren watched it, and the sweeper, with cautious eyes. Even so, he wasn’t quite ready for when the sweeper changed direction and butted him almost playfully in the gut with the end of the bat. It knocked the air out of Ren, and he doubled over, coughing.

“You’re the boy the pigs took in for ‘questioning,’” the sweeper drawled. “The one the news said shot a pig and then himself in the head. Gotta say, you’re lookin’ pretty spry for a dead kid.”

“If that kid shot himself,” he said with care, “doesn’t that prove you’ve got the wrong guy?”

“Man, you’re pretty committed to denying this, starshine.” The sweeper pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped a couple out, and grabbed one with his teeth. The other, he held out to Ren. “Care for a smoke?”

He shook his head.

The sweeper chuckled. “’Cuz you’re a minor, right? Heh. You and the kid are cut from the same cloth. It blows me away, honestly! Here you are, a couple of twerps mucking around in people’s heads and stealing and killing whatever you want with that special power of yours, but a fuckin’ smoke at under twenty? That’s just too far.” He laughed as he lit up and pocketed his lighter and cigarettes.

Ren, meanwhile, felt goosebumps rise on his shoulders and back. Of course he already knew about Goro running around with Shido’s crew. But it somehow freaked him out to hear a professional killer talk about Goro in such a familiar, even condescending way.

“So,” the sweeper continued, twirling his bat, “you’re really not one of the Phantoms? That’s what you’re saying, right?”

Ren nodded.

“That’s too bad. I’m gonna have to give my boys an earful for draggin’ the wrong kid in.” The sweeper took a couple practice swings. “Meanwhile—nothin’ personal—but I can’t risk you tippin’ the real Phantoms off by going to the press if I let you go, so you’re dying here anyway, boy. Give my regards to Satan.”

The bat swung in a vicious blur. “Wait,” Ren yelped, just before it stopped an inch or less from the side of his head.

The sweeper smiled around his smoke. “Yeah?”

“I lied. I am the leader of the Phantoms.”

He laughed heartily, grabbing his cigarette before it fell. “That’s more like it! ‘Course, after you gave the pigs the roundabout, I figured you might fake ignorance for a few.”

“I didn’t ‘fake ignorance.’ They drugged me to the gills. For a while, I barely knew who the hell I was. Which didn’t stop them from making me sign a confession,” he added in a mutter.

He snorted and waved his cigarette-holding hand. “Those confessions aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on. At least you can wipe your ass with paper in a pinch. Right, Ren Amamiya?” He took a drag, then tossed something from his pocket onto the concrete floor in front of Ren.

It was a wallet—his wallet, he knew when it flopped open to his student ID, which naturally had both his name and face on it. Ren peered down at it and scowled.

“You could’ve led with that,” he muttered.

“What can I say? I like an excuse to get violent.” He grinned at him unpleasantly, winked, and sat back down. “At least I didn’t drug you, eh?”

There’d been something in the cloth one of the thugs had pressed to his face earlier, but Ren didn’t argue that point. It wasn’t quite the same, anyway.

“The press never mentioned my name, though,” he said instead. “How do you know Ren Amamiya is a phantom thief?”

He snorted. “Oh, come on. If you’re one of the Phantoms, an’ you changed Mr. Councilman’s heart, then you’ve mucked through all sorts of secrets and acquaintances of his. Which means you would’ve seen me, too. Which means you know I’m in on what he’d know, courtesy of his pet—” He flashed his teeth in another unpleasant grin. “You know who I mean, right? You’re cut from the same cloth an’ all.”

Ren’s lips thinned. The way the sweeper was eyeing him now… It felt like he was being tested. And he was right; there was no way someone Shido had trusted that much didn’t know. “Goro Akechi.”

The sweeper beamed at him. “Bingo! You really are the real deal, then. Whew! With all that insisting you were doing earlier, you had me a little nervous for a moment. But there’s no way anyone but the real Phantoms would know T okyo’s favorite b oy detective is actually a bloodthirsty hitman.” He waved his hand again, the butt of his cigarette tracing red light through the air. “I offered him a spot with the family after the ol’ councilman struck out. But he blew me off. Isn’t that rude?”

“Kids these days,” Ren deadpanned.

The sweeper roared with laughter and slapped his knee, which in retrospect was a good thing. If he’d taken that as a wisecrack instead of a joke, Ren might’ve gotten cracked again himself.

“Speakin’ of him, he was asking after you just now,” the sweeper added.

Ren nearly knocked himself and his chair over, his back straightened so fast. “He’s here?”

“By phone,” he clarified. “He was real, real keen to get to finish you off himself. So keen, maybe he’d be my underling if I let ‘im have you, huh?” He grinned. “Just a little something to keep in mind.”

Goro knew he’d been kidnapped. He must have heard it from Ryuji, which meant Ryuji was okay enough to talk. He hoped. That meant everyone had to know. Did that mean they were coming to his rescue? He bowed his head, thoughts racing. They’d definitely all cooperate if it meant saving him. He was confident of that. So if Goro had called the sweeper, he must have done that to confirm he had him. Maybe to get Futaba to tap his phone by proxy, track his location? Was that a thing people could still do? He wasn’t sure. But he had to bank on that hope. It was the only one he had at this point. Which meant he had to do whatever he could to buy time for them to find him.

“You won’t… actually do that… will you?” he said slowly, keeping his expression blank.

The sweeper snorted. “What’s one way of dying over another?” He pointed his bat at him. “I’ll tell ya this, starshine. I don’t sell my boys out. Agree to work for me, and I’ll keep you safe from him.”

He licked his lips, thinking. “Didn’t you jump ship when we changed Shido’s heart?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now how did you know about that?”

“Your Shadow said so after we beat him.”

He squinted. “You haven’t been rummaging through my head, have you?”

“No, this was in Shido’s head. Er. His Palace. He had… copies of your Shadows, sort of, there. Yours and the rest of his inner circle.”

“Ahhh. It all becomes clear.” He rubbed his chin and stared into the distance thoughtfully. “So that’s why you went after them but not me. You figured, why waste your time on someone who’s already out of the way, right?”

Ren nodded.

“Bet you’re regretting that now, huh?”

Ren made a face.

The sweeper chuckled. “Well, to answer your question, that’s different. I didn’t sell him out, I walked out of a doomed job. Not like I know what all went down in there, but the way you say it, it sounds like my ‘Shadow’ or whatever did his due diligence. Right?”

“He was a tough fight,” Ren admitted.

The sweeper gave him a crooked, pleased grin. “Thought so. So? How about it?”

He licked his lips, thinking. “If I started working for you… that’d make me a yakuza. Right?”

“Right.”

“I’m not sure about becoming an actual criminal…”

“Don’t bullshit me, starshine. You’re already a criminal.”

“No I’m not,” he insisted, letting his hackles rise. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He waved his cigarette. “What about ol’ Okumura? Gruesome way to go, that.”

Huh. Did he not know Goro had killed him, or was he trying to bluff? Either way: “That wasn’t us. The Phantom Thieves don’t kill.”

“Right, right. You just steal. Which is a crime, which makes you criminals.”

He shook his head. “We right the wrongs of criminals by taking away their wicked desires. It’s—” He cast his thoughts about, and pulled back what Igor consistently told him: “Rehabilitation.”

The sweeper leaned forward to peer at him. “Do you actually believe that?”

That irritated Ren. “The Phantom Thieves are justice.”

He sucked on his cigarette for a moment, staring thoughtfully into space. Then he leaned back. “Are you tryin’ to say you won’t join up?”

He hesitated. This he’d have to navigate carefully. “Well, I don’t want to die…”

“Smart boy. But not that smart. If you were smarter, you’d know better than to try my patience too hard.” He reached out and tapped the end of his bat on Ren’s ribs. “Don’t forget: I got a back-up who’s way less squeamish than you, starshine.”

“Am I really just bait to reel him in?”

“You could be. But you got a lot of talent yourself. After all, you managed to outwit him. That’s how you’re sitting here shootin’ the shit with me. Talented guys like you are valuable no matter where you go.”

Ren thinned his lips. “What about Kaneshiro? How do I know you’re not setting me up as revenge for him?”

The sweeper snorted. “Whaaaat? That guy? I don’t give a fuck about him. He’s a loser.”

“So nobody in your organization would want revenge on me?”

That gave the sweeper pause, thank god. “Well, maybe,” he admitted. “But let’s be real: what’s more valuable? Some douchebag swindling lunch money from kids? Or someone with real live superpowers?”

Point. Put like that, he could see why this guy would genuinely want him on their side. And conversely— “Someone with real live superpowers who’s not gonna use them against you, either ‘cuz he’s on your side, or ‘cuz he’s dead.”

“Exactly! You get it, starshine.” He prodded him in the ribs a little harder this time. “So make up your mind already. Given your options, how hard d’you really need to think about it?”

He shook his head slowly. “There’s a lot to think about. This isn’t the kind of decision you can make on a whim.” Inspiration struck, and he added, “The yakuza deserve more respect than that.”

The sweeper nodded, expression thoughtful. Score. “Fair. Fair. All right then. But I don’t have all night here. What d’you need to think about?”

Now that he had a few points, he decided to test it: “Can I get a towel or jacket or something first? I’m freezing my balls off.”

The sweeper laughed. Then he shot the bat forward like a pool cue and cracked his ribs. Ren doubled over in pain, coughing and choking. That hurt like fuck. It kept hurting as he got his breathing under control, especially when he tried to breathe deep. Did that hit break a rib? Shit. Shit shit shit.

“Don’t get too cute, starshine,” the sweeper drawled. “I just said I don’t have all night here.”

“Right,” he gasped, hard and clipped. That was that, then. G oro , for the love of god, get here soon…

“There’s just one lookout,” Goro murmured to Haru, gaze intense and alert as he peered around the corner. “There may be more inside, but we can take that as it comes. For now, if we could just distract that lookout…”

Haru, whose hands shook as she leaned into his back, made a small noise of agreement. This part of the Tokyo Bay area was surprisingly seedy—though being yakuza territory, as Goro had pinpointed after Futaba had narrowed down Ren’s location to three potential areas, maybe it wasn’t that much of a surprise. The taxi driver had even expressed his concern that they were getting off here, but a little extra on the fee had quelled his worries. Haru hadn’t been entirely comfortable with that, but it was for Ren. The one thing she couldn’t afford was to be squeamish.

“Haru-san? Are you listening?”

“Huh?” She blinked up at Goro, who was frowning at her. “What?”

“I was asking you if you think you could approach him pretending to be lost and ask for directions,” he said.

“Oh! Y-yes. Yes, I could do that.”

“You don’t have to,” he added, watching her. “I can do this myself.”

That rallied her spirit somewhat. She shook her head firmly. “No, I’m not letting you. We’re doing this together.”

Goro breathed out a noiseless sigh. “All right then,” he conceded. “Set your phone to silent and give me a moment to circle around. When I text you, do your part.”

“A-all right.”

Goro watched her for a moment longer. Haru stared back at him, more out of defiance than anything else. He left without saying anything more, though, sneaking back the way they’d come and then vanishing around the corner. Haru breathed out, then turned off the sound on her phone.

It was a terrible wait. The two, maybe three minutes that passed felt endless. When her phone lit up, she nearly jumped out of her shoes. At least she didn’t have to act to come across as nervous and unsure.

The yakuza thug looked up at her as she timidly approached. “No trespassin’,” he grunted, arms folded over his broad chest.

“O-oh, really? I’m so terribly sorry, sir,” she stammered. “Actually, I’ve gotten myself utterly lost, and I was hoping you could direct me? You see, I was supposed to meet up with a friend, but I’ve never been to this area before, and I think I got off at the wrong bus stop…”

“Not my problem.”

“Oh, but please, I need your help!” she insisted. She didn’t have to fake the tears that sprang to the corners of her eyes, either. “If you could at least point me in the right direction, I’ll leave you be. Please?”

The thug glared at her for a moment, then heaved a sigh. “Where you trying to go?”

“Um, I believe it was towards Odaiba…”

“You’re way off. You want to get back to the main road, then head that way—”

A flash of motion at the man’s hip; then c lunk. The thug gurgled, then crumpled. Behind him stood Goro, a gun in his hand—the yakuza’s own gun, Haru abruptly realized, stolen from him literally seconds ago—the handle crooked from where he’d apparently struck the yakuza in the back of the neck.

“Good work,” Goro told her. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t kill him, did you?” Haru fretted, stepping away from the fallen man.

Goro gave her a faint smile. “I promised you I wouldn’t anymore.” He offered his free hand. “Let’s hurry.”

She wiped her eyes; then she took his hand. He squeezed it, and together they crept around the warehouse to the side entrance.

There was another man just inside. They knew because the door in was an inch ajar, and a plume of cigarette smoke trickled out from within. Silently, Goro gestured for Haru to stand back, then crept over. A grunt of surprise later, then silence. A moment passed. Another. Another. Goro didn’t fetch her. As time passed, she began to suspect he’d left her behind on purpose to keep her from getting further involved.

Maybe that was the wiser idea; maybe it wasn’t. But damned if she would just let him shut her out. With infinite care borne from her experience as a phantom thief, she slunk to the door, confirmed no one was there anymore, and slipped inside. Half-muffled voices conversed deeper within. Haru swallowed hard and slid her way in. A soft bump on her foot made her pause, and she looked down at a glint of chrome on the barren floor.

Ren throbbed. His head, his chest, his legs and arms, his bones, his skin, whatever, it throbbed. This asshole was clearly still holding back, too; he’d avoided hitting him directly on the face or jaw. Which didn’t stop this killer headache. Piece of shit.

At the moment, he was on his back, sort of. His arms were still tied behind him, and he was still tied to the folding chair, so not much of his back was actually on the floor. The sweeper stood over him, picking his teeth with one nail, leaning on his bat, which he used to pin Ren down.

“I can do this all night, y’know,” the sweeper remarked. “I respect that you wanna give this a decent amount of thought. But time is money, as they say.” He thumped the bat’s end down on Ren’s solar plexus again, stomping the breath out of him. “Look on the bright side, starshine! Least we’re not the pigs, eh?”

Ren gurgled.

“Boss!!” one of the sweeper’s henchmen called then, sharp and urgent.

“What’s the—” The sweeper paused a half-second. “Oh. It’s you.”

Fighting the ache in his neck, Ren peered up. He could have wept with relief. Behind the henchman, whose hands were in the air, was—

“Yes,” Goro stated, holding up a gun. “It’s me.”

“How’d you find me?” the sweeper asked.

Stone-faced, Goro replied, “Trade secret.”

A pause. Then the sweeper snorted. “What, that’s it? I always thought you detective-types lived for the moment you get to brag about how smart you are.”

“I’ve recently been humbled.” Goro gestured to one side with the gun. “Get off him, please. Bat down. Hands up. Slowly.”

The sweeper did as he was told. Ren had to give him credit: despite staring down the muzzle of a handgun, his motions were calm and unthreatened. He wondered how often the guy dealt with situations like this.

Goro shooed the henchman and the sweeper over to the same part of the warehouse room, well away from where he’d come in. Then he walked backwards, keeping his gun trained on them both, until he reached Ren. He knelt down, then rose up as he righted Ren’s seat.

“You’ve been quite a nuisance today, Amamiya,” Akechi remarked, eyes still forward.

‘Amamiya,’ huh. Well, he guessed it wasn’t wise to sound too friendly in front of the guy who thought they were bitter rivals. “Sorry. I’ve been tied up,” he quipped.

The side of Goro’s mouth twitched. “I’ll deal with that momentarily.” He raised his gun, then pulled a four-inch knife—the henchman’s, if his deepening scowl was any indication—from his pocket with his free hand.

“He got me, boss,” the henchman growled. “Tossed my gun and took my knife.”

The sweeper clucked his tongue and shook his head. “And left your life? The kid’s getting sloppy.”

“Not at all,” Goro said, this time at the sweeper. “I have no desire to make an enemy of you.”

“Little late for that,” he replied.

“Is it? I spared not just this subordinate of yours but the one outside as a courtesy and everything.”

His eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”

Goro half-shrugged. “As I said.” He gestured to his right at Ren, then slashed his bindings with a single precise motion. What fibers remained, Ren managed to snap on his own. He got to work at taking off the rest on his own. “This one belongs to me. I’m merely reclaiming what is mine. If you’ll drop this minor incident, I’ll drop that you stole him in the first place.”

The sweeper grunted and appeared to consider this. Ren stumbled to his feet, gasping with pain and dizziness. Goro shot him a look of concern, then stepped closer to steady him. As tempting as it was to collapse on him outright, Ren settled for leaning on him a little. A smile flashed across Goro’s lips like a shooting star, there and gone.

“I’ll be leaving with him, then,” he told the yakuza curtly. “I respectfully request you not follow.”

“You little shit,” the henchman snarled. “You think you’re a big man, huh? With a gun you grabbed off someone else?”

“Shut up, dumbass,” the sweeper said, more exasperated than anything else. He eyeballed Ren, then asked Goro, “So you’re planning on killing him, then?”

“That’s between him and me,” Goro replied.

“Why not kill him now, then?”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

“Sure, sure. But if you’re killing him anyway, this way I can confirm the job was done.”

“Your employer’s heart was changed. It doesn’t matter either way.”

“To him, sure. But to the old men? It matters a whole lot. Where d’you think you’re gonna go after you cap your friend there, anyway?”

Goro’s lips tightened. “That’s not your business.”

The sweeper gave Ren another thoughtful look. Ren didn’t like it. Then he gave Goro a smile Ren liked even less. “No dice.”

“What?”

“You wanna leave with him? You’re gonna have to kill me first.”

“Woah, what?” Ren uttered, echoing the henchman’s stronger language.

Goro, for his part, hesitated.

The sweeper nodded. “That’s what I thought,” he said just before he quick-drew his own gun and shot Goro in the arm.

Goro screamed and dropped his firearm. Ren caught him as he staggered and clutched his arm, though really at this point they were each propping the other up. At least, at a closer look, it looked like that shot had only grazed him, though it’d still taken out a good chunk of flesh. Nasty work.

“Thought so,” the sweeper said, sounding infuriatingly satisfied. “My hunches usually hit a home run. How long you two been in on this together?” When Ren glared at him, he laughed. “Ah well, doesn’t matter. So? You two joining or’re you two dying?”

Ren lunged for the dropped gun. The sweeper opened fire. He missed, but only because Ren jerked to one side when he heard the trigger pulling back. Because of that, though, he staggered, tripped, and ended up kicking Goro’s gun away. The sweeper’s mook promptly picked it up.

“Fuck,” Ren spat.

“Guess that’s dying, then,” the sweeper said, and started to pull the trigger again.

Goro promptly shoved himself between him and Ren.

He paused. “Hey, hey, did I say this game was getting an extra inning?”

“I’ll join you,” Goro growled.

Ren grabbed him. “What? No!” he hissed.

Without looking at him or even trying to shake him off, Goro continued, “But let him go free. Unharmed. That’s my condition.”

“Goro, no,” he hissed again, this time into his ear. Goro still ignored him, the bastard.

“This would’ve gone a lot easier if you’d been this agreeable from the start,” the sweeper replied. “But sure. Knock him out, and you got a deal.”

Goro paused. Ren tensed, waiting. The two yakuza watched them both. Then Goro nodded curtly and faced him.

Ren retreated a half-step, pausing warily when Goro took the time to undo his tie and wrap it around his bleeding forearm. When Goro then rested his hands on the insides of Ren’s arms, though, he couldn’t help but ease up. It was an intimate gesture, like the precursor to an embrace. Hoping for a last-ditch solution, he sought Goro’s eyes, but in them found only despair.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered.

Goro rested his injured arm on Ren’s shoulder and brushed his gloved fingertips through Ren’s hair. “I won’t ask you to forgive me. But I promise I won’t let you get hurt.”

“Don’t do this,” he repeated, voice rising.

He sighed, gaze sinking. “And what other option is there?”

The weighted cli-clack of a hammer cocking seemed to underscore his response. But then:

“Me,” Haru said coldly from the other side of the room.

Goro whirled around. Ren’s eyes widened as they both stared over at her, stepping out into the open from the path to the exit. She held up a gun that matched Goro’s and pinned the sweeper at the end of her sights. To her comrades, she jerked her head towards her back.

“You two, over here, now,” she commanded.

Ren grabbed Goro by his uninjured wrist and yanked him over, circling around the sweeper and his flunky. Goro didn’t need convincing; together, they hurried around until they settled in behind her. The sweeper and his buddy stared at them, then at Haru.

Then the sweeper smiled an indulgent, condescending smile. “Hey there, little lady. Mind putting that down? Handlin’ something that big might just make you hurt yJesus fuck,” he spat as Haru opened fire between him and his flunky.

Haru smiled sweetly, all honey and cyanide. “Do you think so? I barely noticed any kick at all.”

Ren tugged at his collar. Suddenly it was much hotter in here.

Goro was right, Haru reflected. The rush from dominating someone who looked down on you was exquisite. “Now, guns down, hands up, please.” Her smile widened as the sweeper and his subordinate exchanged a glance, then carefully dropped their guns.

“We’ll be leaving now,” she stated as they raised their arms. “Don’t follow us if you know what’s good for you. Good day.”

They didn’t respond. That was just as well. Haru stepped backwards, and Ren and Goro moved with her. The sooner they left, the better.

“You really are on fire,” Ren murmured, smiling down at her.

She giggled as she smiled back, then turned to hurry out with the two.

Movement flashed in the corner of his eye at the same time Goro shot her an alarmed look and shouted, “Don’t turn your back on—”

Ren dove before Haru could even think to move. He screamed. Right at neck level for her, a knife pierced his upper arm.

“Ren!” she and Goro chorused, turning to him as he grit his teeth and clutched his wound. While Goro went to him, Haru focused over at the knife’s source: the sweeper. He was already pulling another one.

Rage raised both her pulse and her gun. As she aimed at the vile, repulsive man who’d dared hurt the ones she loved, their eyes met. In his widening stare, she saw a growing horror, perhaps a recognition that he had trifled with the wrong woman.

Good. Let it be the last thing this filth ever sees.

She pulled the trigger.

Thunder roared, reverberating in the warehouse confines. Goro’s ears rang, but he managed to stay upright. He didn’t dare look down. His torso had gone numb, but compartmentalization was his specialty. As long as he didn’t look down—as long as he didn’t acknowledge the reality—then the agony of molten iron wouldn’t fill the veins in his chest like it had his right arm.

Haru stared up at him, wetness beading in her widened eyes. Carefully, patiently, he used his one good hand to scoot her shaking aim down, away from his ribs.

“G-Goro-kun… why…?” she squeaked.

“Goro,” Ren uttered, staggering to his side and gripping his injured arm.

He hissed in pain like a kettle left too long on the stove. Despite that, he smiled, first at Ren, then at Haru, in deep, genuine affection. “Why are you asking me why?” he asked in a normal, conversational way that took every scrap of his willpower. “Are you implying you have the right to pass judgment on the man behind me and slay him yourself?”

Tears trickled down her face. She said nothing. Ren joined her in horrified silence.

“If you are, I have no right to criticize you. Even so, I must urge you to refrain.” With slow, deliberate care, Goro eased Haru’s fingers off the gun and slipped it out of her grasp into his. “Once you’ve taken someone’s life, you can’t give it back. That mark will stain your soul forever.” With titanic effort, he rested his injured hand on top of hers. “So don’t. I guarantee you’ll regret it.”

Her tears only kept falling. “Goro-kun…”

He smiled at her, tender and caring. Gently, he pushed her into Ren, who let go of him to wrap an arm around her shoulders. Then, killing all of his outward emotion, he turned to the sweeper and pinned him under the sights of his gun.

“We’re leaving,” he stated flatly. “Don’t follow.”

“Christ,” the sweeper uttered, staring at him with wonder and what looked suspiciously like newfound respect. “You really are some kind of badass, aren’t ya?”

Goro said nothing. He had to pour all his concentration on staying upright and firm. The instant he showed weakness, it was all over.

“All right. I get it. You win,” the sweeper said a moment later, holding both hands up palm-out in surrender. “Get outta here, then. If you’re willing to go this far, I ain’t gonna stop you.”

“Boss! Are you serious?!” his underling hissed next to him.

The sweeper swatted him. “Shut up. It’s against my policy to owe anyone anything. A life for a life is fair, ain’t it?”

Goro could feel himself starting to sway, could feel his entire body growing numb. Likely shock brought on by rapid blood loss, a distant part of him observed. When Ren and Haru grabbed him and started pulling him away, he didn’t even feel it. The clatter of the gun from his hand onto the concrete floor echoed far too loudly in his ears, though.

“A lesson for ya, my boy,” he could hear the sweeper saying behind him. “When someone like that wants to go straight, you’d best just let him. There’s nothing scarier than a man with something to lose.”

If his underling responded, Goro didn’t hear it. The warehouse door swung shut behind him and Ren and Haru. Haru dragged them forward—Goro did his best to support her; his legs still worked, after all—until they made it to an empty alleyway, at which point she made a call.

“Mako-chan? It’s me. Please come right away,” she said, voice shaking. “Ren and Goro-kun are both badly hurt. They need to go to a hospital immediately.”

Goro didn’t bother to point out that hospitals were obligated to contact the police in the case of bullet wounds. Everyone’s hearts had been changed. Ren would probably be okay. He hoped.

Speaking of Ren, he was holding him close. A spot of warmth seeped through the numbness. It felt nice. “Fuck,” Ren breathed. “You’re really something else, Goro. Not even I would take a bullet like that. Even the yakuza guy was impressed.”

“Great,” he mumbled. His breathing was growing shallow. Wet. “I’ve earned the respect of a hardened criminal. Just what I always wanted.”

“Don’t talk too much,” Haru urged him. Both of them? “Save your strength. Ren, can you—ohh, you’ve still got that knife in you—d-don’t remove it! It’s keeping you from bleeding, too. I-I’ll, I’ll do something about Goro-kun. Mako-chan’s on her way. Just hang on, please!”

Goro blinked slowly. Haru fumbled out of her coat, folded it, and pressed it to his chest. He wondered how many seconds it would buy. Would it be enough? Time and sound and light seemed to melt together. Ren’s voice and Haru’s voice blurred into one. Somewhere close by, tires squealed. Was that Makoto shouting? His body lifted up, seemed momentarily weightless, then heavier than ever. His head rested on something soft, and something bound his hand tight. The world moved. His eyelids fluttered shut, open, shut, open, shut, like the wings of a butterfly about to take flight…

Chapter Text

The suggestion of a song wafted through Goro’s consciousness. He recognized it before he became cognizant of the lush blue and black, the arching circle of empty doors, the one remaining shadow on the wall, the administrator’s desk before him, the rectangle of brightness at his back. He himself sat in a stiff, uncomfortable, high-backed wooden chair that locked his neck and arms and legs in place. Across from him sat Igor, hands folded under his chin.

“We meet again, young man,” the long-nosed man observed with his usual manic grin and deep, gravely voice. “It has been some time.”

Goro tested his bonds. They held him fast, just like the last time he’d been here. He made a face. “Not nearly enough.”

“So you say, but your condition is your own doing,” he reminded him. “This place reflects your own—”

“Yes, yes, I did all this to myself, I know that already,” he interrupted testily. “Why did you pull me here? I sure as hell didn’t come of my own volition.”

“Young man, you have allied yourself with the self-styled Phantom Thieves of Hearts and changed the cognition of all those who would have controlled the fate of Tokyo. Now you stand on the eve of the public revelation of the conspiracy they have wrought—and that you have assisted.”

Akechi quieted.

Igor watched him closely. When he said nothing, Igor continued, “As you well know, once the public knows the truth of what you have done, they will reject you. Revile you. You will be labeled a great villain, cursed for betraying the trust of those who believed in you.”

He averted his eyes. Nausea curdled in his stomach.

“But…” said Igor, “there is another path.”

Hesitant, Akechi looked up. “What?”

“You currently lie on the brink of death. If you perish now, you will be remembered as a hero who sacrificed his life to protect the innocent from harm. Your sins will be forgiven, and you will be praised. Lauded.”

“In memoriam,” he said softly.

“Indeed.”

“So my options are live and be known as a villain, or die and be remembered as a hero?”

Igor chuckled, grin as wide as ever.

Akechi leaned his head back and shut his eyes. Though it was only his mind in this place, exhaustion still wore at him. What kind of choice was this…? He was obligated to live and suffer in penance. But the oblivion of death sang to him like a siren. Hadn’t he done enough, in all senses of the question? Wasn’t it better if he just stopped existing? Stopped being a burden and incorrigible fuck-up? But Haru and Ren would be upset if he just gave up… But was it really right to make a decision based on that? If he lived, he was just going to turn himself in and die anyway. Wouldn’t dying now save the country a lot of time and money? But if he died like this, wasn’t it just running away…?

“What’s the right thing to do?” he croaked.

“I cannot answer that. Only you can make this decision,” Igor replied.

Figured. “What are the consequences?”

“The full consequences of any action are unknowable to a human.”

Frustration boiled inside of him. If his wrists and ankles hadn’t been bound, he would have slammed a fist on the chair’s arm. “What should I do?”

“Do you truly wish for me to answer that, young man?”

Something in Igor’s tone gave Akechi pause. Still, cautiously, he replied, “I would appreciate an outside perspective.”

“Pitiful child,” he rumbled. “Still, pitiful as you are, you have played your role well. In truth, it matters not to me if you live or die, for you have already proven my theory correct.”

Akechi’s world seemed to tilt off-balance. “What?”

“Humans desire to be bound and controlled. They wish not to exert their own will, but to have their decisions made for them. Should you live, you intend to submit yourself to a greater authority and abide by their decision. Should you die, the momentum of your actions, which have turned the people towards submitting to authority, shall sweep onward with or without you.” Igor chuckled. “Even now you wish to subsume your will to mine. Truly, you have been a sublime representative.”

His pulse raced, like he was on the verge of a heart attack. A lump caught in his throat, and the more he tried to speak around it, the more stubbornly it remained stuck. You’re wrong! he wanted to shout—but was he, really?

Akechi’s gaze flicked down. When he had first come to the Velvet Room, it had been much like this. But as he had described to Ren and Haru, there had been dozens, maybe scores of shadows on the walls: children of all ages, running all about, the echoes of their laughter and screams bouncing in all directions. As he had dug his grave deeper and deeper, more and more children vanished, until now there was only one, huddled by itself, still occasionally looking back and forth around itself as if wondering where everyone else had gone. Its silhouette was intimately familiar.

As he had not described to his datemates, the bands on Akechi’s chair had formed over time as well. At first, they hadn’t existed; it had just been a chair. He always appeared in this room, which for all its shadows contained no one but himself and Igor, sitting in it, with Igor sitting opposite him. It reminded him of the administrator’s office at the orphanage. Always had. The headmaster had claimed that, when he had to call a child to his office, it created an environment of easy friendliness. Goro had always felt like he was being interrogated, put on the spot. He’d hated it then, and he hated it now. He’d put up with it for the power and guidance Igor gave him, but once the neck lock appeared, he’d gotten frightened enough to swear he’d never return. He had Loki; he had Robin Hood; what else did he need?

What else, indeed.

“So you’ve been looking down on me this entire time, too,” he said softly. “Is that why Ren has extra assistants and I don’t?”

“No. He has attendants to provide extra guidance to him, who received his Persona well after you did,” Igor replied. “Consider it a balancing of the scales.” He chuckled. “However, even with that guidance, he will still fail. Just as I anticipated.”

“Fail?”

“As you were chosen to represent mankind’s desire to be caged, he was chosen to represent mankind’s desire to be free.”

Akechi frowned. “You chose a boy who sees himself as a prisoner to represent the desire for freedom?”

“Did I say I did the choosing?”

“Who else is there?”

Igor didn’t respond to that.

“Not only that, you say Ren has attendants to ‘balance the scales,’ but if this is a matter of social momentum, then isn’t the extra time I had much more valuable? If you’re wagering on humans wanting to be controlled, isn’t that stacking the deck in your favor?”

“That young man has been given many great opportunities to grow stronger. If he isn’t strong enough to turn back the tide of society, that is his own failing.”

Anger pierced Akechi like a needle through a boil. “Liar! You’ve been using him and me to rig the game you’ve set up between us and get the results you want!”

“Even if your suppositions are correct, if you humans truly desire freedom, then that desire should overcome any sort of ‘rigging,’ should it not?”

He ground his teeth. “You piece of shit… You’re just like Shido and his fucking sycophants. You think that if you lay a trap, it’s the victim’s fault for falling into it, don’t you?”

Igor swept a hand to one side. “Isn’t it?”

“How dare you!!” he snarled, straining against his bonds. “We aren’t your playthings! You can’t just do whatever you want to get whatever you want from us!”

“What of yourself, then? The instant you received your Persona, you chose to use it to further your own interests. How is that not doing whatever you want to get whatever you want?”

The simple truth of Igor’s words stung Akechi like a slap to the face. He hung his head and balled his fists. “That’s true. I know. I’m a bad person,” he murmured. He glared up at him. “But at least I acknowledge now I was wrong! Just because there’s injustice in the world, it doesn’t give you the right to perpetrate your own!”

“An ignorant viewpoint,” Igor countered calmly. “I am doing what is best for humanity. Once your kind cede the last vestiges of your self-determination, you will no longer suffer. That includes yourself. And so, we return to the choice you have before you.”

“What choice? If two different choices lead to the same result, they’re no different at all!”

“And yet, they are the choices available to you.” He chuckled, low and rumbling. “Now choose.”

Rage made Akechi yank against his bonds until they choked him. Still they didn’t budge. Eventually he wore himself out and slumped in despair at his own helplessness. Igor did nothing, said nothing, only watched and waited like a praying mantis. Why did it even matter what he chose? He’d been nothing more than a puppet dancing dutifully on its strings. Whether it was serving Shido to gain his trust (approval) or never meaningfully questioning an unknown power (specialness), all his ire had only ever benefited his puppeteers. And he fancied himself a detective—a master of the mind, a seeker of the truth? Someone as stupid and sightless as him? If only he had just stopped to think!

…

If only he had stopped to think.

…

Akechi stopped to think.

Why did it matter what he chose? If it was all the same for Igor if Akechi lived or died, why was he so keen on his decision? Was there another meaning to them beyond what Igor had framed for him?

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. Haru had shot him. She hadn’t meant to, but she had. If he died, she would become a murderer. While she could afford a good defense lawyer who would no doubt get her acquitted by calling it self-defense, it would still stain her conscience and reputation. It might ruin her friendships—even her romance. His vengeful side thought it would serve her right, but that fleck of spite soon passed. In truth, he didn’t want that for her. Not over him.

But no. While that was his truth, it would mean nothing to Igor. Another truth, then.

Ren. His rival, his friend, his enemy… his love. Igor had indicated they’d both been chosen as opposite sides for some kind of game or experiment. As bullshit as that was, Igor seemed to take it deadly seriously. If Ren had a pair of attendants to make up for Akechi’s head start, too, there had to be meaning in receiving personal attention—ergo, while the contest could be measured in the effects they’d had on society, their individual results also had significance.

What was more, Akechi dying didn’t seem to count as a loss against Ren. Yet if living and dying were the same, Igor should be content to let him die. He, or whoever controlled him, would simply take the consequences of Akechi’s actions during life as proof of their “win.” At the same time, if he lived, Igor would take that as a “win” too—because Akechi intended on submitting himself to the authorities for judgment. Ergo, living as a “win” hinged on his sub-choice of accepting incarceration.

This in turn was borne from his breakdown in being able to tell right from wrong. He no longer trusted himself to make correct decisions, so he needed a moral compass to guide him. This cruel demi-fiend’s thesis was that humans didn’t want to think for themselves, and Goro Akechi represented that thesis. Akechi found it difficult to deny; even when he’d struggled to fulfill his own desires, he’d also been struggling for the recognition of others. Others, including Ren.

Ren Amamiya represented the human desire to be free and independent. A rather suspect choice, considering he’d been chosen only after he thought of himself as a prisoner. Yet perhaps there was something to that too. Perhaps it was only after being imprisoned that one truly longed to be free. Perhaps the test, for him, was seeing how hard he was willing to fight for autonomy. And if part of his strength was his bonds with those who supported him…

“May I clarify one point first?” Akechi murmured.

Igor gestured him on. “Go ahead.”

“Ren and I were both chosen to represent opposite aspects of human desire. Ergo it could be said that everything has happened these past two years can be boiled down to the conflict between him and me. Is that right?”

“That is not incorrect.”

“Because we are the representatives, the micro-conflict between us two personally has as much significance as the macro-conflict we represent. Is that right?”

Igor took a moment to consider this. “That… is not incorrect.”

“The logical conclusion, then, is that your ‘experiment’ can be just as well concluded by the result of our rivalry. Is that right?”

“That is incorrect. The will of the individual is not the will of the people. One person alone cannot determine mankind’s fate.”

“If that’s true, then why were representatives chosen in the first place? Wouldn’t it be a meaningless gesture that would invalidate the entire experiment?”

Igor scowled. “Hmmm.”

“If a single person cannot be used to gauge the will of humanity, then this experiment is null and void. If this experiment is to be held valid, you must allow that a single person’s will can reflect the will of all mankind—that a representative can represent.”

For an eternity, Igor mulled over this. “Very well,” he intoned at last. “The representatives were chosen with care. In this specific case, I shall allow what you say to hold.”

“Then you permit that the results of the game between Ren Amamiya and Goro Akechi can, will, and does determine the outcome of your experiment.”

“That is the logical conclusion. Yes.”

Akechi smiled. “I’m glad you think so.” He took a deep breath. “I, Goro Akechi, hereby admit complete, total, and utter defeat at the hands of Ren Amamiya in all aspects of our rivalry.”

Igor jerked up straight. “What? You can’t do that.”

“Why can’t I? I’m only making explicit what is already true,” he said cheerfully. “I’ve abandoned my revenge, joined up with the Phantom Thieves for real, and even openly acknowledged that my methods were mistaken. What do you call that if not a complete and utter defeat? A perfect victory of one ideology over another?”

Igor’s teeth ground together. “Yet this ideology has failed to expand among the people!”

“So? Are we or are we not representatives of the people, as you yourself stated?” He showed Igor all his teeth in return in a broad, broad smile. “As below, so above—or so they say.”

Igor banged a fist. “That is utterly incorrect!!”

“Is it? Well, Ren Amamiya and those who follow him do have a habit of flipping all expectations. Why not this saying, too?”

“Gkh…!”

Ahh. Ahhhh. It felt so good to infuriate smug and powerful men. He basked in the feeling, then stood. The clasps that once held him all fell away with no effort, to the point where he only noticed they were gone after the fact. Igor gawked up at him in shock… though maybe that was just his usual expression. He smiled down at him.

“To answer your earlier question: I will live. I’ll live, and dedicate my life to righting my wrongs. It may not be possible in my short lifetime, but I’ll do whatever it takes to be the person Ren and Haru deserve.” He half-turned towards the blinding light at his back, shaped, as all things were, like a door. “Good-bye, Igor. May we never meet again.”

As he left behind the irritatingly blatant Plato’s Cave parallel to pass into the light, the Velvet Room came apart. The light vanished into the distance, leaving behind a void that enveloped his senses. The last thing he heard was Igor’s voice behind him, muttering, “I’ll settle for a draw.”

Then he fell into emptiness—but he was long since used to the feeling of nothing. And it wasn’t nothing he felt anymore. This time, a guiding light sustained his hope.

Goro swam for the stars he could reach.

Chapter Text

Pale light cracked through Goro’s eyelids. He blinked blearily to eventually focus on an unfamiliar ceiling. After many seconds of staring in incomprehension, he rolled his head to one side, then the other. A bed with several buttons on the right-hand side. A long curtain, pushed back. Several chairs. On the wall to his far left, a shut door. On the wall to his right, several long windows, through which sunlight poured. A bathroom off on the other side of the room, door half ajar. A clock ticking patiently above it. A heart monitor ticking out of time with it. On his chest, the monitor’s wireless component, taped carefully in place. On his right forearm, a thick wrap of bandages. And higher up, needled into the crook of his elbow, two packs of fluids that hung from an IV stand, one clearly blood, the other some more mysterious fluid.

With several grunts of effort, Goro managed to sit up. He used the IV stand for support, careful not to disturb the tubes. His memories were a little hazy, but he definitely hadn’t forgotten getting shot twice. He swung his legs over the right side of the bed—he’d definitely lost weight, he noted, something he could see since he was wearing a bathrobe-style hospital robe—and eased himself upright. The cold of the tiles prickled his bare feet. His legs hadn’t been injured, so he could walk to the window without trouble, but it did leave him shockingly winded. His free hand slipped under the folds of his robe and sought the bandages he knew would be on his chest. Had Haru’s bullet gone through one of his lungs? To experiment, Goro took several slow, deep breaths. They hurt. They hurt, but he could do it. Not his lungs, then.

He cast his gaze out the window. The highways of Tokyo spiraled around a sea of buildings. At the foot of the hospital sprawled a large parking lot and a crowd to match. Judging by the vans, cords, and cameras, it was mostly newscasters and their crews. Something big must have happened.

Besides me almost dying? he thought, and smiled ironically. If they were there for him, should he be pleased or upset about that?

Definitely not pleased. Goro knew he must look like hell right now. Certainly not the image he wanted caught on camera.

Before he could pull the curtains shut, though, he heard the door open. He turned to look, then clutched the IV stand with both hands.

Shido stared back at him. Then he smiled. “Ah. You’re awake at last. I’m glad to see it.”

“What are you doing here?” he rasped. Ungh, urgh, ugh, he sounded even worse than he felt.

Ignoring his question, Shido crossed the room. He stopped next to Goro without looking at him, instead gazing out the window down at the news crews. Despite the fact that he had to have been hospitalized too due to his change of heart, he was dressed smartly in a semi-casual suit with tinted glasses, beard neatly clipped, shaved pate shining. Goro grit his teeth and followed his gaze.

Just then, someone in the crowd pointed up at them and shouted something to the others. In a wave, cameras and newscasters focused up on them. Goro shrank back and stumbled out of their sight. Shido glanced at him, then pulled the curtains shut.

“You should be in bed,” he chided him with agonizingly gentle, even paternal sternness.

“Shut up,” Goro growled, heart and head pounding, still clinging to the IV stand for support. Next to t hat man, he felt small—weak—vulnerable. He’d give anything to have him gone.

But naturally, Shido didn’t go. Instead, he frowned at him. “Do I need to call the nurses to have you behave?”

It didn’t matter that Shido was right and he should get back in bed. Goro still snapped, “You have no right to be here. We have no more relation to each other. Remember? So get out.”

Shido didn’t stop frowning. “That’s no way to speak to—” your father, Goro thought he was about to say, but instead he concluded, “—the man who saved your life.”

The world tilted. When Goro tilted with it, Shido tried to catch him. He knocked his arm away and collapsed hard on the bed. If he was going to do as he was told, he was at least going to do it under his own power.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded. Sweat trickled down his face, along his hair.

The look Shido gave him was infuriatingly pitying. He pointed at the IV stand packs. “Whose blood do you think that is?”

Goro stared at the pack even now dripping life into his veins. Horror overtook him, and he violently thrust the stand away. Before it could topple, Shido caught and righted it.

“Don’t be such a child,” he scolded him, which struck Goro worse than any slap could. “You must know you have an uncommon blood type. When you were brought to the emergency room here, you’d already gone into shock from blood loss. If I hadn’t been here too to donate my blood for a transfusion, you would have died on the operating table.”

Goro tried to scream. He only managed a strangled gurgle.

“Well,” Shido added, suddenly busying himself with straightening the already straight IV stand, “it wasn’t just my blood that saved you, I must admit. Without a second person who arrived to donate, you might have passed away regardless.”

“I—I—who?”

After a moment of pointlessly busying his hands, Shido met his eyes. “Your sister.”

Goro stared. All of a sudden, he felt weightless.

“Half-sister, I should say,” he amended. “Do you remember Wakaba Isshiki? About sixteen years ago, she and I had what you might call a fling. She became pregnant and bore a child as a result.”

He clutched the sheets. “Futaba-san?” he croaked.

“Yes, I think that might have been her name.” Shido rubbed his chin. “I had no interest in raising a child, and she said she was fine with raising her on her own, so we left it at that. I’d completely forgotten until that girl showed up at the hospital to donate her own blood. Even then, if the nurses hadn’t said something…”

As Shido droned on, Goro pulled the sheets up over himself as if the flimsy cloth might provide him any kind of protection. Memory still assaulted him.

You’re such a sweet young man, indulging your sister like this. Oh! I’m terribly sorry, I just thought you looked alike…

Even a stranger had seen it. Yet Goro knew why he hadn’t. He’d refused to see it. If Masayoshi Shido was Futaba Sakura’s biological father, that meant that he, Goro Akechi, had murdered his half-sister’s mother. That his sins went beyond skin and burrowed deep into bone.

This time, when he threw his head back to scream, his throat responded in full.

The next few moments blurred by in his hysterics. At first Shido held out his hands and tried to speak soothing nothing-words, but Goro kept screaming and grabbed the IV cords, and Shido gripped his wrists to keep him from yanking them out, and Goro struggled full force, and Shido tried to pin him while calling for assistance, and Goro couldn’t stop screaming and thrashing, and a nurse rushed in with a clipboard and she took one look and called for backup and a sedative and there was so much shouting and noise and chaos and everything was a maelstrom and and and

And Ren ran in, Haru at his heels.

They skidded to a stop just inside the room. At their backs, Sae, Makoto, and the others crowded in at the door frame. Goro ignored the throng and reached out a shaking hand.

“Ren! Haru! Help me!!” he begged.

For a split-second, their eyes met. Then Ren shot over to the other side of the bed, shoved Shido off him with one hand, and interposed himself between them. Haru rushed over to Goro and took his hand in both of hers. The nurse gawked at all of them, her back to the wall after Ren had sped past her.

“Wh-who are you people? You can’t just barge in here!” she protested.

Sae strode in, radiating professional demand for respect. “I’m Sae Niijima, Akechi-kun’s legal guardian. These are his friends,” she stated. “What is going on here?”

“I’d like to know that myself!” the nurse shot back. “I came in here and all of a sudden the patient was violent!”

Shido dusted himself off and adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I was—”

“If you know it’s your fault, leave,” Ren interrupted.

This gave Shido pause. In the moment they stared each other down, Makoto, Ryuji, Yusuke, and Ann all marched over to join Ren. Together, they created a human shield between Goro and his father. The sight overwhelmed Goro with a whirlwind of emotion from gratitude to guilt. As if sensing the tumult in his heart, Haru slipped a gentle arm around his shoulders and squeezed his hand. He met her eyes. The sweetness of her smile melted his anguish like snow in spring, and he couldn’t help but smile back and lean into her. Truly, Haru was well-named.

“He’s right,” Makoto was saying, back rigid. Goro peeked over at her. “If you know you’ve been causing a sick patient distress, it would be best for everyone if you removed yourself from the room.”

“I’m his father,” Shido replied, as if that was a proper counter. Goro froze up all the same. How could he just—?

“Yeah, we know you’re his dad, you effing deadbeat!” Ryuji snarled. “Why the hell else d’you think someone as together as Akechi got so upset?!”

“Being his father doesn’t excuse your actions,” Yusuke added, tone flat. “Have some self-awareness.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Ann chimed in, arms akimbo. “If you’re trying to say you care, give him some space already!”

Shido looked over them all with astonishment. It was almost funny. Heart changed or not, he couldn’t be used to people telling him No. The fact that he bowed his head proved it had changed after all.

“Very well. Excuse me,” he said. He glanced Goro’s way, but Goro refused to meet his eyes. Tension strung the room as Shido walked out; as he passed by, Futaba ducked behind Sae, a basket dangling from her arm.

The nurse looked around in open bafflement. After a few seconds of waffling, she hurried after Shido.

Sae let out a faint sigh. She met Goro’s gaze. “I’ll handle them. If you need anything, Akechi-kun, just call for me.” When he nodded, she patted Futaba on the head, then strode out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

The mattress creased as Ren sat on its edge next to Goro. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was worried about you,” he said softly, resting a hand over his. “What happened?”

Goro turned his hand around to cup Ren’s. It brought the IVs in his arm into view. Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he could feel them moving inside him as he did. Maybe it wasn’t his imagination. He would have yanked them out if Shido hadn’t stopped him. He stared at the liquids dripping inside him, then buried his head in Ren’s shoulder. In other circumstances, he’d have been embarrassed to be so openly needy for someone’s touch; now, all that mattered was receiving it.

“I’ll leave it to your imagination,” he mumbled. A heartbeat later, he tilted his head to one side. “Are you all right? The last thing I remember was when Haru and I rescued you…”

“I’ve had some time to recover, and everyone’s been real supportive.” He nodded over his shoulder at the others. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”

The mattress creased on his other side too as Haru also sat with him. Goro smiled a little. Having the entire team here was far from ideal, but as long as Ren and Haru were at his side and in good health, he didn’t care. For the first time since he’d woken up, he felt at ease.

Morgana poked his head out of Futaba’s basket. “Whew,” he breathed. “It sure is stuffy in here.”

“Oh, yeah,” Futaba said without enthusiasm. She held said basket up. “Um, we brought you some stuff.”

“Well, it was kind of an excuse to bring Morgana with us,” Ann admitted, scratching her cheek. “We didn’t know you were awake yet.”

As little as he wanted to remove himself from Ren’s warmth, Goro sat up. “I only did a short while ago,” he murmured. As he looked over everyone, he hesitated. “Um… thank you all for visiting.”

Yusuke shook his head. “No thanks are necessary. We were all worried about you.”

Goro rather doubted that, but he appreciated that Yusuke said so. “I’m sorry.”

Ryuji snorted. “Dude, what d’you need to apologize for?”

“Mmm…” Goro’s gaze flicked over to Futaba. She’d crab-walked over to the side table to let Morgana out and empty the basket of its contents—books, apples, bottled water, a peeler, and several napkins. She happened to glance up at him, and quickly looked away when she saw him watching her. “Everything?”

“Uhh…” Ryuji rubbed his head. “Yeah, I guess I see that. Ow! What was that for?!”

Ann retracted her jabbing elbow. “You could stand to have a little delicacy!”

Goro laughed a little. Apparently that broke some of the remaining tension, because some of the others laughed too. When it died down, Haru handed him the water and started peeling apples. Goro drained half the bottle in one go. The water was lukewarm, but it remained a blessing on his throat. Once he was screwed the cap back on and set the remainder aside, Makoto stepped up next to him.

“Sorry to bring up something potentially upsetting,” she said, “but you said you just woke up, right? What do you know about what’s been going on since…?”

Makoto trailed off, perhaps trying to practice that delicacy Ann had mentioned. Goro shook his head. Given that he’d gone into screaming hysterics, he appreciated their attempts, but: “It’s fine. I’m calm now. You don’t need to walk on eggshells.” He paused a beat. “Not much. I know I owe my life to Shido and Futaba-san.” His gaze flicked back towards a fidgeting Futaba. “And all that implies.” He bowed his head. “…That’s it.”

“I see,” Makoto said. A moment of awkward silence followed. Then she cleared her throat. “So he didn’t mention that he’d officially withdrawn from the election?”

Goro shook his head.

“…or that he’d publicly acknowledged you’re his son?”

He shot his head up to gawk at her.

“I take it not,” she concluded. She pulled out her smartphone and tooled around with it. “That was the main reason he gave for withdrawing. He made mention of needing to apologize for all his other misdeeds, but he mostly spoke about how he needed to be there for his ‘gravely injured son.’” She tapped her phone, then handed it to him.

He accepted it. It was awkward to watch the video flat on his back, so he used the bed controls to raise the head of the mattress by fifty degrees. The video itself was as Makoto had described. A moment later, he handed it back and slumped on his bed, nauseous.

“I don’t know how to feel about this.” He rolled his head towards Futaba. “Ah… But I should at least thank you. I know you hate me, so I’m especially grateful for your help.”

She full-body flinched. “Buh? Whuh, i-it’s, it’s whatever,” she ultimately huffed. Then she hid behind Haru. “I-it’s not like I wanted y-you to die.”

Goro’s eyes lidded. So she knew too. Judging by everyone else’s unfazed reactions, they knew as well. He clasped Ren’s hand anew and pressed his forehead to it. Ren stroked his cheek with his thumb. It comforted him, brought him reassurance.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Goro asked softly.

“About your physical condition—” Makoto started.

He cut her off with a wave of his free hand. “I’ll hear about that from the doctor. I mean about… political matters.”

“All right. In that case: Oe-san and the rest of Shido-san’s inner circle all turned themselves in. His entire party is in shambles. The election still took place, though. Dark horse candidate Namatame won.”

“There’s a lot of unease in the city,” Ann added. “People don’t know what to make of all these unexpected changes. A lot of them are floundering because they don’t know what to do.”

“It could be worse, though,” Morgana piped in. “For as many people who are feeling lost, there’s as many who are taking things in stride and supporting the new prime minister. I’ve overheard many a conversation about taking this as a lesson to actually study up on candidates rather than going along with whoever talks the best game.”

Ann brightened. “Yeah, that’s true! It’s not great out there, but I definitely feel like everything we did was worth it.”

“Yeah,” Ryuji agreed, less enthusiastic. “’Specially since it’s over for us now.”

Goro looked up. “What do you mean?”

Everyone hesitated and looked around at each other. Finally, Ren cleared his throat.

“The Meta-Nav app vanished,” he said. “We can’t access the cognitive world anymore.”

“Wha—?” Goro struggled to sit upright. “What do you mean, it vanished?”

Ren shrugged.

“We’re not really sure, either,” Makoto said, lips pursed. “Early this morning, it just… wasn’t on our phones anymore. Nobody had deleted it—”

“Not that you could,” Ren piped in.

“—it was just… gone.”

“It isn’t on your phone, either,” Morgana added. “Futaba checked for us. For all of us.”

Futaba nodded, hands tucked behind her back. “Usually, a program leaves some kind of data trail on the phone or computer it’s on, even after it’s been deleted,” she murmured. “Using that, it’s easy for someone with my skills to bring that data back. But even I couldn’t find anything. It’s like it never existed in the first place.”

Goro absorbed this. He looked up at Ren. “What did Igor have to say about this?”

Ren shook his head. “The Velvet Room’s gone, too.”

I’ll settle for a draw… Igor’s last words echoed in Goro’s mind. He stared into space for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I see.”

“Do you know something?” Ren added.

“I don’t know if I know anything, but…” He leaned on him anew. After a moment to make up his mind, he described a streamlined version of his “dream” to everyone. Ren must have told everyone about Igor and the Velvet Room while he’d been unconscious, because while they were surprised, none of them were confused.

“So all of this had been a game manipulated by some higher power?” Yusuke wondered, eyebrows furrowed. “That leaves a rather bitter taste in my mouth.”

Ryuji punched his palm. “No kidding. Who’s that creepy old bastard think he is?!”

“Whatever Igor’s true identity is, it sounds like he’s gone for good now,” Makoto said. “At least, as far as the Phantom Thieves are concerned.”

“It’s a little depressing, honestly,” Ann murmured, eyes downcast. “We’d all finally come together as a team, and now it’s all over. I know I was there from the start, but it feels like it all went by in a flash.”

Morgana’s whiskers drooped. “I know what you mean, Lady Ann. I would have liked to have questioned this Igor about my amnesia and how to return myself to being human. Now… now I have a sinking suspicion I’m stuck like this for good.”

“Awww, Mona…” Ann crouched down and scratched his chin. “It’s okay. You’ll still be our favorite fluffy boy.”

Morgana mrowled without enthusiasm but accepted her scritches all the same.

Goro slipped a hand under his robe and traced the edges of his chest bandages. A power that they could never again summon, and a mystery that would remain forever unsolved… Was this the cost of his survival? At dismissing whatever power Igor was or represented from their lives? Had he really done the right thing, or had he let his selfish desires command him once again?

“Would anyone like an apple slice?” Haru asked softly then.

Everyone did. She handed out slices of the apples she’d peeled on top of napkins. It was a nice treat—both the fruit and the fact that Haru had peeled it for him. When she handed one to him, he smiled at her. However, while she smiled back, it quickly faded as she averted her gaze. His own smile drained away. What was wrong? Had he upset her somehow? She’d rushed to his side when he’d called for help; did she regret that? Thinking back, she’d been awfully quiet since everyone had arrived. Did… did she still hate him after all…?

“How long have I been out?” Goro asked to distract himself.

“Over a week,” Makoto told him between bites. “It was touch and go for a while. The doctors weren’t sure you would make it.”

He let out a long, slow sigh. “I’ve missed finals, then.”

For some reason, everyone broke into laughter.

“How can you worry about exams at a time like this?!” Ryuji exclaimed, grinning. “You damn nerd!”

Goro laughed weakly. “I suppose it is the least of my concerns.”

“It’ll be okay,” Makoto assured him. “Sis will get in touch with your school and help you schedule a make-up. Winter break just started, so if you’re lucky, you’ll be out of the hospital by the time school’s back in session.”

Ryuji snorted. “You call that lucky?”

Goro saw his point, but he rather agreed with Makoto. After chewing and swallowing, he asked, “So then today’s date is…?”

“December 24 ^th ,” she confirmed.

He eased back on his pillow, carefully not looking at either Ren or Haru. “I see.”

Ann clapped her hands once. “Hey! Speaking of the date, now that Goro’s finally awake—”

“‘Goro’?” he echoed.

“—we should totally have a Christmas party to celebrate!”

He felt his face heat as most of the others chorused enthusiastic assent. “R-really?”

“Yeah!” Ann paused. “Oh, d’you think the nurses won’t let us?”

Makoto smiled. “I’ll see if I can’t talk them into it. I’m sure Sis will approve.”

“Ooh, awesome! Then we’re gonna need a cake! Let’s see, there’s nine of us, plus Sae, plus—” She looked at Ren. “Do you think the Boss will show up?”

“For Futaba, at least,” Ren replied.

Ann nodded firmly. “So we’ll need cake for eleven. Let’s round it up to twelve, just in case!” She grabbed Yusuke’s arm. “Yusuke, you come with me. We’ll get the prettiest, tastiest Christmas cake that’s still on sale!”

“Indeed,” Yusuke replied gravely. “Nothing but the pinnacle of aesthetic and culinary craftsmanship shall do!”

She grinned. “Great! Ryuji, you go and get some decorations, okay? It’s not a party without balloons and streamers!”

With a crooked half-smile, he said, “You’re gettin’ really into this, huh?”

“Well, yeah! When you’ve got something to be happy about, you gotta celebrate!”

“Yeah, true. Heh, now you’re getting me into it!” Ryuji grinned outright and punched his palm. “Awright, just leave it to me!”

“That’s our Ryuji! Okay, so Makoto’s getting permissions, me and Yusuke are getting cake, Ryuji’s getting decorations—Futaba-chan, you wanna join in? If you think it’d be too noisy for you, you can go home instead!”

That was a brilliantly deft out, in Goro’s impressed opinion. He glanced at Futaba, who fidgeted a bunch and scooped Morgana up from the bed.

“N-nah, I don’t wanna miss cake,” she said as he dangled from her arms. “I’ll call Sojiro and—and—”

“And we can pick up party food,” Morgana suggested.

“Y-yeah! We’ll find some fried chicken somewhere and bring a bunch of other snacky stuff back. How’s, um, how’s that?”

“Fantastic!” Ann bubbled in English. “Then, Ren—”

“I’ll hold down the fort here,” Ren said.

Ann nodded like this was the most natural thing in the world. “Haru, what about you?”

“Um...” Haru looked down, then up again. “Before we go into that, there’s something I need to say.”

“Uh huh?”

She turned to Goro, hands clutched tight in her lap. “Goro-kun?”

He tensed, but tried to keep his tone neutral. “Yes…?”

For a few seconds, she hesitated, eyes averted; then she swung into a deep bow. “I’m so sorry!!”

He stared blankly. A quick glance over everyone else indicated no one else was surprised or startled. He looked back at her. “Excuse me?”

She rose, but still hung her head. “It’s all my fault you almost died. I-if I hadn’t shot you…”

Dots connected. “Oh, is that all?”

“Wh-what do you mean, that’s all?! I shot you! I almost…” She blinked rapidly as tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “…I almost killed you.”

“You weren’t the only one who shot me that night,” he pointed out. “And you didn’t mean to, and ultimately I didn’t die. Honestly, I’m surprised it bothers you.”

“Of course it bothers me!!” She sniffled. “Are you saying I shouldn’t be?”

“Yes, precisely.” When she glared at him, he laughed a little. “I killed your father. Shooting me seems like an apt revenge.”

“I didn’t want to!”

“Then if you truly feel guilty about it, never handle a gun again.” He brushed away her tears. “Murder doesn’t suit you.”

“Goro-kun…” she murmured.

“Well, actually—” Yusuke started to say until Ann kicked him in the heel.

Haru giggled a little anyway and let Goro touch her face. “Th-thank you. For being so kind about it… and for stopping me. I don’t know what came over me…”

“You were angry someone had hurt someone you cared about and you wanted to make them hurt back. It’s a common motive.” Goro paused, then looked at Ren. “Speaking of which, Ren… how are your injuries…?”

“Fine,” he said. “Ached for a while, and the stab wound in my arm’s still healing, but I managed to make do with first aid back at Makoto’s place. I even got to go back to school.”

Goro smiled. “How did you do on your finals?”

Ren grimaced. “As long as I passed, I’m happy.”

Haru breathed out a little laugh. “I think that applies to all of us. I could barely concentrate.”

Goro paused, looking first at her, then at everyone. The question that had been troubling him for the past several minutes arose: “Were you all really that worried about me?”

“Well, yeah,” Ann said without hesitation or guile. “It would’ve been awful if you’d died!”

Yusuke nodded. “Regardless of our individual personal feelings, we know how hard you’ve been trying to change for the better.”

“Agreed,” Makoto said. “I don’t know how you think of us, but we—or at least, I care about you.”

“Yeah, you’re one of us now,” Ryuji agreed. He playfully kicked the foot of the bed. “Jackass.”

Futaba mumbled something into Morgana’s fur and clutched him closer.

“Futaba says, ‘Donating blood is terrible. If I’m going to get stuck full of vampire needles, it’d better not go to waste,’” Morgana translated. “Speaking for myself, you may not be my favorite person, but I’m grateful to you. You saved Ren; you saved Haru; and if it hadn’t been for you, our heist against Shido would have failed and we’d never have known until it was too late. We owe this last success to you.”

Goro felt his face heat, and he ducked his head. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Ren smile warmly at him, and the heat spread through his chest.

“Ann-chan?” Haru said. “About the party… I’d like to stay here too, if that’s all right.”

“Sure!” Ann chirped. “So it’s all agreed, then. Makoto, you’ll text us all once you’ve got the permissions nailed, right?”

Makoto nodded. “Naturally.”

“Then let’s get going!” She pumped a fist. “Yeah!!”

Everyone pumped a fist and chorused “Yeah!!” back. Even Futaba. A lump swelled up in Goro’s throat, and his eyes burned. As the others began to leave, he pressed his left palm to his face. Undaunted, tears flowed around and past it.

“Goro-kun!” Haru gasped, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong? Are you in pain?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that,” he choked. “I’m just… so happy to be alive…”

Short huffs of relieved laughter puffed through the room. Ryuji in particular ran a hand over his cropped hair.

“Dude, you are the king of mixed signals, you know that?” he said.

Goro laughed through his tears. His chest hurt, and it felt good. “I had an inkling, yes.”

Ann laughed too, one hand on her hip. “Okay, let’s all meet back here in two hours. C’mon, there’s no time to waste!”

Everyone shuffled out of the room. Futaba retrieved the basket and plopped Morgana inside before she did; as she left, she shot Goro a glance. He caught it, and she looked down and hurried out.

While everyone’s noise hadn’t been bad at all, the quiet they left behind was nice, too. Haru handed Goro a couple of napkins. He blew his nose and cleaned his face. Ren pulled the trash can over for him. Goro tossed the napkins out, then looked between the two.

“Thank you for helping me when I needed it,” he said softly. “It meant a lot.”

Ren smiled, aglow with affection. “Anytime.”

He smiled back, body warming anew. “I’m feeling a little worn out, I admit… Do you mind if I rest for a bit before the party…?”

“Go ahead,” Haru encouraged him. “We’ll be right here.”

Reassured, Goro eased back and shut his eyes. The clock’s ticks blurred together as he drifted off.

The party went splendidly. Goro had little appetite, but he let himself have a small piece of chicken, half an apple, a thin slice of cake, and plenty of water. A different nurse came by to check his IVs, which ended up needing some adjusting, but she had a better attitude than the previous one and kept things pleasant. Futaba remained awkward and avoidant, but he suspected that wouldn’t change until they had a chance to talk privately—if that ever happened.

Once the party was over and most of the others had left, Sae gave him his phone and the other personal items the hospital had been holding onto him since he’d been admitted. Temptation urged Goro to look up his Twitter account and see what people were saying about him; nausea advised him to desist. He decided to listen to the latter for once.

“There’s something we need to discuss,” Sae finally said, seated next to his bed with expression grave and back ramrod straight. She glanced at Ren and Haru, who had remained after the others had gone. “Could you two give us some privacy, please?”

“It’s all right,” Goro cut in. He knew what was coming. “I haven’t told them. They ought to hear this. Especially Haru-san.”

Haru blinked from the other side of his bed, while, next to her, Ren furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

Sae met Goro’s eyes. He nodded her on. She looked back at his datemates and said, “Akechi-kun intends to turn himself in for murder.”

Ren shot him a wide-eyed stare so sharply it could have cleaved him in two.

Haru’s reaction was softer: she covered her mouth with one hand as she gasped. “What?”

“I gave it a lot of deep thought before my hospitalization,” Goro murmured. “Put simply, I don’t believe it’s right or just for someone who’s committed the crimes I have to walk free.” He smiled humorlessly. “Were I someone else, I would have already slayed myself for my sins. Standing trial is the least I could endure.”

Haru clutched her hands to her chest. “G-Goro-kun…”

Ren stared at him until it became uncomfortable; then he bowed his head.

Goro waited a moment longer in case either of them said anything else. When they didn’t, he cleared his throat. “This will also clear the Phantom Thieves’s names in regards to Okumura-san’s murder, as you know. Between that, the fact that there won’t be any more heart thefts, a general lack of evidence, and the inevitable sensation my case will cause, that should be enough to get the police to lose interest in,” his eyes flicked over to Ren, “all of you.”

Ren’s lips thinned while his shoulders grew rigid.

Haru sighed, lashes low. “We didn’t ask you to do this.”

“Correct. No one asked me to do this. I made the decision to take responsibility for my own actions, on my own, of my own free will.”

Ren looked up at him, eyes stricken behind his glasses. Then he pulled up a chair and took Goro’s hand between his own.

“R-Ren?” he stammered, pulse surging.

For a moment, Ren said nothing. He only stared at Goro’s hand as his thumb traced up and down Goro’s fingers. Then he let out an aggravated burst of breath and looked away. “Sorry. I’m just a little frustrated with myself.”

Carefully, Haru perched on the edge of Goro’s bed. Their eyes met. She rested her hand over Ren’s and Goro’s. His chest squeezed painfully tight. He nodded up to Sae. “Go on.”

She’d watched their exchange with folded arms and a frown. “The police want to question you about your shooting, of course,” she said, “and the press are chomping at the bit to scavenge any scrap of news they can. I managed to convince the force to let you recover and collect your wits for today, but they will be by tomorrow. Probably first thing in the morning.”

He nodded. “I’ll spend some time considering my statement.” He looked at Haru and Ren. “How much do you two want to be involved?”

Haru startled. “What?”

“If you want, I can leave either or both of you out of my testimony.” He paused. “At the very least… I think it would be wise to leave Ren out.”

Haru pursed her lips. “You’re probably right. Ren, what do you think?”

“I don’t like you taking on all the burden on your own,” he said, eyes on Goro.

“What would you do in my shoes, then?” he asked.

Ren’s lips thinned. Then he looked away. “The same fucking thing, probably.”

Goro and Haru laughed a little, though it wasn’t all that funny.

“I get what you’re trying to do, and I’ll keep my head down,” Ren added. “I just don’t have to like it.”

Goro nodded. “What about you, Haru-san?”

“Mmm… I don’t really want to talk to the police or the press at all, but… I can’t really avoid it, can I?” she murmured, eyelashes low. “Everyone knows I hired you to investigate my father’s murder. They’re going to come badger me about you eventually.”

“True.”

“If Ren can’t stand with you, I’ll do it in his place,” she continued, nodding to both of them. Ren’s lips twitched up a bit. “We’ll tell the police you were shot protecting me from attempted kidnappers.”

“Are you sure? Changing the story too much from the truth will make it more difficult to keep straight.”

“It is the truth.” She slid her hand down to Goro’s wrist, her eyes on his. “You protected me from a decision I could have never taken back.”

He smiled, gentle affection in his heart. “…Very well. We can hammer out more of the details later, but first…” He looked back at Sae. “Surely that wasn’t all you needed to discuss?”

“As perceptive as always,” she replied. “I want to remind you that, even though I may be your legal guardian, once you turn yourself in, my ability to help you will be strictly limited due to conflict of interest. I almost certainly won’t even be able to work directly on your trial, though I intend to at least take the stand as a witness. Makoto can assist you with your simpler needs, but I strongly urge you to choose a defense lawyer already. And I know you haven’t, because if you had, one would have contacted me by now.”

Ah. So she’d noticed. “I don’t plan on getting one.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Why not?”

“What’s the point? I intend on pleading guilty to all charges.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “But you’re going to need legal representation for general matters, because I can’t be that for you.”

He laughed a little. “You’re saying I should hire someone to be my stand-in guardian?”

“That’s not…” Her expression turned troubled.

So he reeled it back with, “Just kidding. I understand the position you’re in. I’ll look into it.”

“You really should hire one before talking to the police, but…” She shook her head. “While you were unconscious, I prepared a list of defense attorneys and emailed it to you. I’ll send it again so you don’t have to hunt for it. That’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you, Sae-san.”

“Thank you, Akechi-kun.” She folded her arms. “Is there anything you need from your apartment, by the way? I’ll have Makoto deliver it to you.”

Quite a lot, but he’d need to keep it simple. “My laptop. My briefcase. My schoolwork and detective work. Several changes of underclothing, and perhaps some personal hygiene items… Mm, but the hospital probably has those available. Also, if you could have someone clean the place while I’m gone, I’d deeply appreciate that.”

“Me and the crew can take care of that,” Ren offered. “It won’t be hard. Your place is already neat.”

“Just don’t let Futaba-san help. She’ll definitely bug the place,” Goro replied, only half-joking.

Even so, Ren smiled and Haru giggled. He smiled back.

Sae smiled too, even. “Consider it done. Amamiya-kun, I’ll give you a copy of Akechi-kun’s apartment key--assuming that’s all right with you?” she added his way.

Goro nodded. “He can borrow mine. No need to make an extra.”

Sae nodded back. Then she regarded Haru and Ren. “I’ll let you three have some privacy now, but remember, visiting hours are almost over. Don’t take too long.”

“Right,” they chorused. Once she left, they both scooted closer to Goro. The heart monitor told them both what he thought of that.

Much as he would have preferred they simply stay that way for as long as they could, they still had business to finish up. Goro and Haru discussed the rest of the details of the story they’d tell, with Ren offering advice and feedback. Haru agreed to pass it on to Makoto, since as the person who’d driven him to the hospital, she’d likely get questioned as well.

A nurse stopped by to let them know they had five minutes left before they had to leave. They all stated their understanding to her face, and sighed once she left.

“I just wish I could stay longer,” Ren remarked, stroking Goro’s face. “The night’s still young.”

He leaned into his touch. “I feel the same way.” He laughed weakly. “To be honest, I really don’t want to be alone. But I still need to recover, so what can you do?”

Ren and Haru shared a glance. Its significance wasn’t beyond Goro’s notice.

“Don’t,” he stressed, “try to sneak in to stay overnight. There’s nowhere to hide; you will get caught.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Ren protested all too mildly.

“I know how you think, you thrill fanatic,” Goro countered.

Ren smiled and laughed.

“Hmm, all this protesting,” Haru teased, smiling too. “I think maybe you do want us to sneak in and stay overnight, Goro-kun.”

“And that’s how you know it’s a terrible idea!” he exclaimed.

They both laughed. He laughed with them. He was going to miss them terribly.

As their laughter died down, so did his smile. He bowed his head. “…Listen,” he began quietly. “There’s something… I should tell you two. I…” He pursed his lips. Best to rip the band-aid off quickly. “I have traumatic brain damage. It’s from when I used my power to turn hearts psychotic on myself. I don’t know if it’s going to get worse. I do know that power’s real-life consequences are often fatal. What I have now is moderate, but it could change either way. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

All mirth vanished from Ren’s expression. Haru gasped and covered her mouth with one hand.

“G-Goro-kun…” she whispered.

He chuckled weakly and averted his eyes. “Now I’m damaged goods emotionally and physically.”

Ren brushed Goro’s bangs back. “Whatever. Perfection is overrated. Except for a perfect ass, which, uhhh, you still have, so there.”

Goro burst out laughing while Haru erupted into giggles. “Damn you, Ren! This is supposed to be serious!”

But Ren just smiled and caressed his face. Goro touched his hand back. God, he loved him.

“There’s no guarantee that it’ll get worse, is there?” Haru said, now encouraging. “In fact, I think it’s likely that it won’t. And even if it does…” She perched herself on the edge of his bed and rested a hand over his. “It won’t change what we have.”

He felt his face and his chest grow warm. “…Thank you.”

“Is that what was bothering you before?” Ren asked quietly. “That day we went out on a date?”

He nodded once. “You don’t seem surprised,” he hazarded.

Ren hesitated. He pulled Goro’s hand into his and pulled it down. “I’m not. The day after that, I was talking to Futaba, and she commented that you’d been emotional ever since we fought. It got me to thinking—isn’t that really strange for you? Like, way more than if you’d just decided to drop the act. So… I went over to Dr. Takemi’s clinic and found out about it there.”

“She told you?” he uttered, dismayed. “That’s a violation of HIPAA.”

“Hey, she didn’t tell me,” Ren protested. “I kind of… snuck in and snooped through your records.”

Goro groaned and rolled his eyes. “Typical.”

“Ren,” Haru uttered, scandalized.

“I know! I shouldn’t have! But I was worried.”

“I can’t believe you!”

“I know…”

“You didn’t even bring me along.”

Ren cracked up. Goro snorted but laughed too. Haru smiled coquettishly and moved to the other side of Goro’s bed so she could sit closer to him. Ren brought Goro’s hand to his lips; Haru snaked her hand around his side and onto his back. They were both close enough that he could feel their breath on his skin. Ren kissed the backs of his fingers, and Haru traced circles in the small of his back. He shivered, pulse quickening. A small noise sounded in his throat that even he could only describe as needy.

“You like that, Goro?” Ren purred.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed,” Haru teased.

Struggling not to gasp and failing, Goro managed, “It’s—cheating to—to gang up on me.”

“Oh, so you don’t like it? Should we stop?” Ren asked with too-wide-to-be-sincere eyes.

“I didn’t say that,” he huffed.

Haru giggled. “You really should learn to be more honest with yourself, Goro-kun.”

“Me ? Then tell me, why are you cozying up to me like this?”

“I—well, I—” And then she blushed.

Ren laughed and wrapped his arms around them both. “Fuck me, you’re both adorable. I can’t take it. I’m gonna die.”

“Oh, shut up,” Goro grumbled, smiling and basking in his body heat.

Haru wrapped her arms around him too. He returned the gesture to them both and shut his eyes.

A moment passed. Peace. He felt at peace. It was… nice.

So naturally, he ruined it for himself by murmuring, “Are you two going to be staying together after you leave?”

Haru hesitated. “We hadn’t really talked about it…”

Goro sat up straight; the others leaned away from him to give him space. “You should,” he told them both firmly. “Especially if the only reason you wouldn’t is me. I don’t want to get in your way.”

“Goro—” Ren started.

“It’s Christmas Eve. You should be with the one you love,” he insisted. “Both of you.”

Haru clasped her hands in front of her. “…Then we ought to stay right here.”

Goro’s pulse fluttered. “You can’t,” he reminded her gently. “But I’ll see you later.”

A knock on the door agreed. They all shared a glance. Then Ren and Haru got up.

“See you later,” Ren said with the air of a promise.

“See you soon,” Haru added with an air of hope.

Goro smiled and waved them off as they left. Once they were gone, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes for a moment. Then he grabbed his phone and checked his email for Sae’s list.

The brisk evening wind did as it pleased with Haru’s scarf. She held on tighter to Ren’s arm to compensate, but somehow, the chill just wouldn’t abate. Neither of them had wanted to go home, but neither of them could decide on what they wanted to do, either. Eventually they’d ended up wandering the streets of Shinjuku, which seemed at first to Haru like it would be a shallow thrill at least, but now didn’t even offer that. Ren seemed lost in his own head, too. She understood. They were both thinking the same thing.

“Do you think he would be upset if we snuck in after all?” she wondered aloud.

Ren blinked down at her. Then he smiled ruefully. “Only if we got caught.”

Haru smiled back. “I can just picture the look on his face.”

“Right? He’ll try to pretend he’s not happy, but he just won’t be able to himself.”

She giggled and leaned on his shoulder. “Say… as long as we’re out, why don’t we get him a present? I bet he’s lonely right now, but if we came back with something nice…”

Ren nodded. “You’re right. I’m sure it’d cheer him up.” He cast his gaze around the stores as they passed by. “Hmm… Everywhere looks packed, though… Maybe we’d have better luck in Akihabara. It’ll be packed too, but the electronics store has just about everything. One-stop shopping.”

Haru took a look around too. “That’s not a bad idea. It’s hard to think of what he might like, though. And… what he might be able to keep, long-term…”

Both of them fell silent. As delicately as Haru tip-toed around her real meaning, it was lost on neither of them.

“Sae-san… wouldn’t push for the death penalty, would she?” she murmured, clutching Ren’s arm tighter.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Ren replied, bespectacled gaze now on the sidewalk. “But it’s probably not up to just her, either.”

They reached a corner and stopped at the curb. A movie theatre loomed to their right, across the street. If Goro had been with them, it would’ve been a perfect place to spend the evening.

Haru looked up at him at the same instant Ren looked down at her. “Actually--” they chorused; then they paused, then laughed.

Before either of them could start insisting the other go first, though, a young woman waved at them from the other side of the street to their left. She was very pretty, with long, straight hair, a headband, and a purple dress, but Haru didn’t recognize her. Ren smiled at the sight of her, though, and waved back, before catching Haru’s eye and gesturing with his chin to head over her way. Haru nodded back, and together they crossed the street to join the woman and, it turned out, her street table.

“Ren-kun! Merry Christmas!” the woman said brightly.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied, nodding in greeting. Haru nodded along with him, waiting to be introduced.

“I had a feeling I’d see you tonight,” the woman continued. “I was about to close up for the night, but then I thought, I’ll wait just a little longer… I’m glad I did!” She turned her smile to Haru. “Is this pretty young lady your girlfriend?”

“Yes,” Ren said without hesitation. Haru blushed and grinned. “Haru, this is Chihaya, a friend of mine. She’s a fortune-teller. Chihaya, this is Haru. Like you already guessed, she’s my girlfriend.”

“Pleased to meet you! I’m Chihaya Mifune,” Chihaya said warmly, offering her hand.

Haru smiled back and shook. “Likewise, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Haru Okumura.”

“Oh!” Chihaya pulled her hand back to splay it on her cheek. “The Haru Okumura? The heiress to Okumura Foods?”

Haru pursed her lips a bit, but nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

“Wow, what a catch!” Chihaya teased Ren. “You’re awfully lucky, you know?”

He grinned, casting Haru an affectionate glance. “I know.”

“I guess the rumors must have been wrong,” Chihaya added, her now-curious gaze turning back to Haru. “That’s the tabloids for you, I suppose.”

“Er…” Haru looked from Chihaya to Ren and back. “What rumors?”

“Oh, that you were dating Goro Akechi. A bit silly, right? You only hired him for… well, you know.” She sighed dreamily. “But, excuse me for saying so, it would have been so romantic.”

Haru hesitated. She looked up at Ren; Ren gazed back at her steadily. Then she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “No, that’s true. Goro-kun and I are also a couple.”

“The three of us are all dating each other,” Ren added. “Polyamory.”

Chihaya turned pink as a hand flew to her mouth. “Oh! Oh my goodness!” A sly, mischievous smile tugged up her lips as she looked at Haru. “Now who’s the lucky one?”

Haru giggled, quite sure she was blushing too. She hadn’t been sure what to make of Ren’s friend at first, but she seemed like fun. She hoped they could be friends, too.

“Is Akechi-kun okay?” Chihaya added, sobering. “I heard he was in the hospital.”

Haru and Ren shared a glance, then nodded. “He’s awake now, but…” Haru faltered.

“Actually—” Ren glanced at Chihaya’s table, which sported several fold-up chairs, a deck of tarot cards, a few other knick-knacks, and a wraparound blanket, presumably for Chihaya to ward off the cold. “If you haven’t closed up yet, could we ask you for a favor?”

“Hmm?” She tilted her head at him. “What’s that?”

He told her. Haru and Chihaya both gasped in delight.

“I’d be more than happy to!” Chihaya said, gesturing them over to her table. “If you two could just sit right here…”

Chapter Text

Goro sent off a missive to the defense lawyer he’d chosen, then leaned his head back on the hospital bed pillow. Even with the lights off and night having fallen, there were enough lampposts in the parking lot, on the highway, and in the surrounding skyscrapers that there was a fair amount of illumination in his room. His phone clock told him that it wasn’t too late in the evening, though the early dark of winter made it feel like it’d been forever.

He rested an arm over his eyes. Weary as he was after the day, his mind couldn’t stop racing. It was just as well he already knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner tomorrow would come. He might have already made up his mind about what he needed to do, but… that didn’t make him any less frightened.

If only Ren or Haru were here, or better yet, both… Being alone truly was a curse.

A text notification chime drew him out of his mental mire. He swiped his phone on, then breathed a faint sigh. It was from Futaba. Well, it was better than having no one at all to talk to… He opened it up.

‘Hey,’ was all it said.

‘Hello,’ he messaged back cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

‘I just wanted to tell you I don’t like you but I don’t hate you and I’m glad you’re alive. There done BYE.’

He could have laughed. At the least, he felt a bit more at ease, despite her continued unfriendliness. ‘You really don’t want to talk about this, do you?’

‘No!! Catch a clue, Aketchy!!’

‘Is that any way to talk to your older brother?’ he almost messaged as an attempt at a joke, until he remembered how Shido had said something similar to him. He grimaced and deleted it.

‘I saw you delete that,’ Futaba messaged. Damn.

‘It was obnoxious. I’m sorry.’

‘It’s OK.’ Then: ‘So… my mom and your dad, huh.’

‘Technically, our dad.’

‘Gross.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Boy, that’s one thing you don’t have to apologize for. It’s just… hard to come to grips with.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘You sure did! We could hear you screaming from a mile away. Ren and Haru were off like a SHOT.’

Goro felt his face heat. ‘I’m glad they came,’ he managed to text. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if they hadn’t been there.’ He paused, then added, ‘I’m just going to come out and ask. Do you want to have a’ (he paused to consider his wording) ‘sibling relationship? I understand completely if you don’t.’

‘IDK.’ And, just as he was frowning at that response: ‘Feelings are hard. I need to figure them out first.’

‘OK.’

‘Goro?’

Futaba’s use of his given name rocked him with surprise. However, he kept his response a simple, ‘Yes?’

‘Don’t die. It’d make a bunch of people sad if you died.’ And then: ‘You weenie.’

He smiled. ‘I’ll do my best.’

She sent a string of bobbing Alibaba heads at him. Futaba certainly liked being inscrutable at times.

‘Would you mind chatting a little more?’ he added. ‘I’m feeling’ (lonely, he thought, but that would be too pathetic to admit to her) ‘restless.’

‘Pass.’

Oh. Well, of course--all considered. Her total lack of hesitation still stung, though.

‘But if you’re restless, you’re in luck,’ she added.

‘Why’s that?’

‘You’ll see why for yourself in three…’ A second later: ‘Two…’ Then: ‘One…’

The door creaked open. Goro startled so badly he nearly dropped his phone. It couldn’t be a nurse or doctor; they would have knocked first, then turned on the light. Whoever this was crept in and eased the door behind them, then kept to the shadows. Yet Futaba knew about it--had outright broadcast it--so he probably didn’t need to worry. Probably.

All the same, he whispered, “Who’s there?”

A rectangle of e-light pierced the darkness. It lit up the silhouettes behind it, as well as their grins.

“Did you miss us?” Ren whispered, the light gleaming off his glasses.

“I literally saw you two hours ago!!” Goro whispered heatedly, which was also a convenient way of not having to say ‘yes.’ “What are you two doing here? I told you not to break in!”

“Oh, Goro-chan,” Haru tittered, one hand at her smile. “We all know you didn’t mean that at all.”

Ren set down a couple of large fabric rolls, carefully pulled over a chair on Goro’s right next to his IVs, and sat. “We decided Christmas Eve just wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Haru seated herself at Goro’s left and set down a large duffel bag and his initialed briefcase on the floor. “So we brought you some things and asked Futaba-chan to spot for us,” she continued. “As long as we’re quiet and we sneak out again in the morning, we can keep you company all night. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Goro stared at them, then down at his phone. ‘You’re welcome,’ Futaba had texted.

‘You’re unbelievable,’ he texted back, then, ‘Thank you,’ then, ‘We’ll talk later.’ Then he set it down on the bedside table and reached out for his datemates. Haru and Ren each accepted one of his hands.

“It does sound like fun,” he admitted quietly. “I… I really don’t deserve this. You two are too good to me.”

“Change the past,” Ren said.

This took Goro off-guard. “What?”

“Go back in time and change the past so you can deserve this.”

Goro gawked at him for a moment. “That’s obviously impossible.”

“Then stop worrying about the awful things you did, which you can’t do anything about anymore, and worry more about how you’re going to do better, which you can do everything about going forward.”

He paused; then he laughed a little. “You do realize I’m going to have to worry about the awful things I did once I turn myself in and go on trial? But… thank you.” He gazed over at Haru. “That does make me feel a little less anxious.”

She caressed his hand in hers. “About that, Goro-kun… Do you really have to turn yourself in?”

“What?” He laughed again, this time in astonishment. “Weren’t you the one who wanted me to in the first place?”

“I just can’t help but wonder… If you’ve already come to repent, what good will jail time really do?”

“Don’t…” Goro’s eyebrows drooped. He swallowed hard. “Don’t say that. Please. Don’t tell me the path I’ve chosen has no meaning.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“We just don’t want you to leave us,” Ren said quietly. “We know we’re being selfish. And we’re prepared to convince you.”

Though he knew he shouldn’t, Goro couldn’t help but ask, “Convince me how?”

Ren smiled. Then he looked up to catch Haru’s eye. Both of them moved from their chairs to the bed, Ren taking care not to disturb Goro’s IVs, and scooted closer to him and each other. As Goro watched, Ren pulled her close by the shoulder and kissed her. She melted against him. Goro felt his face burn. It was so in his face and, quite literally, over his body. How was he supposed to react when they were touching him at the same time they kissed each other?

Eventually, they pulled apart and smiled at each other. Goro cleared his throat and shifted nervously. “U-um… You’re crowding me a bit…”

Haru broke into nervous giggles. Ren grinned and leaned back. However, she remained awfully close. Before Goro could repeat himself, she caught his eye.

“Um…” She blushed as she ducked her head and gazed at him through her lashes. “Goro-kun, could you shut your eyes for a moment, please?”

He stared at her for a second, then glanced at Ren. Ren was still smiling, too, half-turned as he sat on the edge of the bed. Now she’s getting embarrassed? Unsure of what either of them were driving at, he decided not to argue or question it, and simply do as she requested. He heard the rustle of her clothes, felt her hand on his shoulder, sensed the warmth of her breath…

And then she kissed him.

His eyes flew open, and by sheer reaction, he struggled. However, rather than letting him drive her away, Haru pinned him down on the bed, gentle but firm. After a second or two more of dwindling resistance, he could do naught but submit.

And it felt… good? He’d always hated being powerless, but this was different. A thrill had shivered through his heart when she pushed him down, and once the shock faded, he’d relaxed. It felt good. Too soon, she lifted herself away, and he blinked rapidly, chest heaving.

But she was smiling down at him, cheeks a dusky rose.

“Haru,” he whispered, reaching up to touch her.

“Goro,” she whispered back, taking his hand in hers.

And all of a sudden he understood what their game was here, and he was so overwhelmed with emotion he could have laughed and wept at the same time. Haru eased back, and Goro sat up. He gazed at her, then over at Ren, heart in his throat.

But he showed him no more mercy than Haru had. The instant their eyes met, Ren touched Goro’s cheek and shifted himself into a more comfortable position. Goro met his tender gaze as Ren gently caressed his chin and held it in place…

In the instant as Ren leaned in, Goro shut his eyes and embraced the incoming kiss.

It lasted not nearly long enough. As their lips pressed together, Ren traced his fingertips down Goro’s neck, along his collar, and down the opening in his robe. Goro clutched at him, arching up to feel more, and Ren accommodated him. He might have pulled him down on top of him if he’d let him. Too soon, though, Ren pulled away. Goro let him go. He had no other dignified choice.

But Ren didn’t simply leave, either. Gaze still on him, he whispered huskily, “How convincing was that?”

Goro swallowed hard, fingers still bunched in the fabric of Ren’s shirt. “That’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not fair,” Haru teased, pulling herself a little closer. “We’re here to steal your heart.”

Ren smiled as he stroked his face. “With all the bullshit that’s twisted you your whole life as our opponent, we have to break out all the stops.”

Goro bowed his head, though he didn’t precisely look away from him or Haru. He didn’t know what to say or trust himself to speak. However, as he traced the outlines of his lips and brought back the sensation of their kisses, he felt himself smile broadly as his heart brimmed with joy.

Polyamory, hm. Yes, he absolutely saw the appeal now.

“You both really want me here?” he wondered quietly. “Ren? Haru…?”

“Yeah,” Ren replied.

Haru nodded. “As long as Shido-san sees justice, I’m satisfied.”

“You’re not the only ones I’ve hurt, though,” Goro pointed out. He took a deep breath. “Is it… really okay for me to go free? Is it really okay for you to overlook my crimes?”

In silence, the two of them shared a glance. It had a knowing quality that burrowed under his skin and rooted around in his veins.

“I killed your father,” he blurted out to Haru. To Ren, he continued, “I tried to kill you.” To them both, he said heatedly, “Isn’t that alone enough to condemn me for life? Is it really okay to let me off the hook just because you like me?”

“Goro, you really are terribly arrogant,” Haru replied, eyebrows furrowing. “Do you honestly think we haven’t both thought about that at length?”

Goro clamped his mouth shut.

“But there isn’t really a right answer,” Ren said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We talked about while you were unconscious over and over, with each other and with the others, and we just went around in circles every time. Yeah, maybe we don’t have the objectivity to judge you. But I don’t trust the system to give you a fair shake, either.”

“And besides, who said anything about letting you off the hook?” Haru said archly. “Jail time isn’t the only punishment possible.”

“Wh-what do you…” Goro trailed off. No, he understood what she meant, intimately. Hadn’t he himself wanted to punish his father by being the keeper of his scandals? He brushed his hair back, then nodded. “…As long as you’re satisfied, Haru… san.”

Ren leaned in close, so close the warmth of Ren’s breath hit his neck and made him shiver. “If you really want punishment, you should make that ‘Haru-sama,’” he purred.

Goro could feel the cut of his wicked grin there, could imagine the bite of a kiss over his carotid. He shivered again. “Haru-sama,” he repeated, unsure of what game he’d been invited to play.

Haru turned bright red and covered her mouth with one hand. Goro watched her, still uncertain. He didn’t get the sense that he’d upset her, but should he apologize anyway? They’d just started dropping honorifics, and he’d gone back almost immediately. Before he could make up his mind, though, she gave him a smile as warm and rosy as the sunrise. He couldn’t help but smile back. She fetched a bottle of water from the duffel bag on the floor and twisted its cap off; then she brought it to his lips.

All gentle sweetness, she commanded, “Drink.”

For a second, he held his breath. Then he nodded and let her tip the bottle up, bringing a trickle of water over his tongue. He drank. It tasted all the sweeter for his submission. He’d always hated being weak, being controlled, had always craved the strength to control his own destiny. But that desire had made his entire life spiral and crash and burn, whereas this…

This…

Haru tipped the bottle away and smiled at him as he gasped for breath. A few drops trickled from the corner of his mouth to his chin. “How do you feel, Goro?”

This was hardly what he’d ever thought he’d wanted, and yet, how could he deny the satisfaction it gave him? To be able to be weak and powerless, to be in a position where he had no control whatsoever--and yet still feel safe?

To feel wholehearted trust?

He lifted his hands to touch them both. Ren and Haru each accepted a hand in return.

“Good,” he whispered. “Wonderful.” His vision blurred for an instant. “Loved.”

They smiled and leaned in. Goro shut his eyes and let himself enjoy Haru’s lips on the corner of his mouth, Ren kissing away the droplets from his chin. He smiled back and relaxed, brimming with a deep contentment he’d never experienced before.

For every mote he was loved, he loved them back with all his heart and soul. The emptiness that had yawned within him so long he barely even noticed it anymore felt filled.

He’d do anything for them. Anything at all.

“Haru--ah, sama… You said you’d be satisfied as long as Shido sees justice, correct?” Goro murmured.

She nodded.

He looked at Ren. “Do you feel the same way?”

He nodded, too.

Goro let his head sink into his pillow as he considered this. “Do you think it’s possible to make the charges stick without my testimony?” He looked at them. “Do you two intend on giving testimony?”

Ren’s shoulders tensed. “God, I hope I don’t have to. Courtrooms freak me out.”

“They do?” Haru uttered, eyebrows rising in surprise. “But when we were working through Sae-san’s Palace, we had to sit in one to change her perception.”

“Emphasis on ‘had to,’” Ren replied. “We didn’t have to participate, so I managed. Actually taking the witness stand, though…” He rubbed his arm and looked away. “Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl.”

“Oh...” Haru looked between the two. “I’m sure it will be fine. That’s why Sae-san is on our side, right? To make sure the system does what it should.”

Goro considered them both. “You two don’t really understand at all how the justice system works, do you?”

Both of them frowned, Haru worried, Ren darkly.

“What d’you mean?” Ren said.

“Evidence is everything. Without sufficient evidence, the charges won’t hold. Shido might confess, but never forget that powerful men are surrounded and kept afloat by sycophants who will drown if they go down.” A beat. “Sae-san is one woman. It will be exponentially harder for her to do what she must without evidence--such as witness testimony.”

Ren tensed anew. “So you’re saying I’ll have to--”

“I’ll have to take the stand,” Goro interrupted. “To ensure that man sees justice.”

Haru clutched her hands together. “If you do that, will you be able to avoid turning yourself in?”

“I could try. But I don’t think that’s the answer. I would have to obscure my role in things, and clouding the trial with lies won’t help.”

“So… you’re going to accept judgment after all.”

Goro gazed on their clouded expressions and made up his mind. “Not necessarily.” When they voiced surprise, he continued, “Originally, I’d intended to plead guilty and accept whatever sentence I was given. But… in America, they have something called a plea bargain, wherein a guilty party gives information that ensures the conviction of a guiltier party. Those aren’t technically legal here in Japan, but they sometimes happen under the table anyway. If I can make a deal with the prosecution, I might be able to come out of this with a reduced sentence.”

“Will that work?” Ren asked.

He shrugged. “Who knows? It would certainly work better if the guiltiest parties of the enemy camp weren’t tripping over themselves to confess their crimes.” He reached out for their hands; they clasped back. “But it’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

Haru squeezed his hand. “…All right. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

“Thank you.”

Ren, who clutched Goro’s hand with both of his own, held them to his lips, expression pinched. After a moment, he looked at him. “You already know how I feel about this. But I can’t tell you what you’ve decided is wrong, either. Can I instead tell you something I’ve been needing to tell you for a while now?”

Goro’s pulse quickened. “Go ahead.”

“It’s about what you said before. About how you thought I look down on you because we’d figured you out from the start.”

“Mm.”

“I want to make one thing clear: we didn’t know who you were from the start. Not for sure. I had an inkling, but it wasn’t ‘til a lot later that I was sure.”

His gaze flicked down. “Mhm.”

Ren watched him closely for a moment. Then he sighed. “…And I won’t lie, at first I couldn’t stand you. There was your whole anti-Phantoms stance, of course, but I also had this vibe from you like you were completely fake. Every time you smiled at me, I wanted to punch your lights out.”

Goro laughed faintly. “Good instincts.”

“But that was at first,” he insisted, squeezing his hand. “When you told Futaba and me about your mom and finally let me catch a glimpse of the real you, my feelings did a complete 180. I thought, ‘Actually, this guy’s a lot like me.’ And then I started falling for you.”

Goro’s heart skipped like a smooth stone across a pond. He peeked up to see Ren’s smile, the tenderness in his dark eyes, and felt himself smiling back. “Oh?”

“Yeah. But, well, before that could go anywhere, I figured out you were the one the Shadows called the ‘man with the black mask.’ And, yeah, that was thanks in part to how you were able to hear Morgana talk the first time we met. I wanted to believe in the bond we’d developed, though. That maybe you were fake about a lot of things, but that much, at least, was real. If it were just me, maybe I would’ve called you out. But I had everyone else to think about, too.”

“You chose your friends over me.”

“In all fairness,” Haru piped up, “you were out to kill him.”

“Oh, no, I know,” Goro said, looking over at her. “I’m not blaming him. Merely stating a fact.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ren said to Haru before focusing back on Goro. “I still cared a lot about you. But… I kinda figured it was one-sided. I didn’t want you dead or anything, but you and me, as a couple? It seemed like a pipe dream.”

Goro laughed a little. “Would you like to hear something ironic, Ren?”

“What?”

“I’ve been infatuated with you since the day we first spoke.”

Ren sucked in a long breath, eyes widening.

“Oh, my,” Haru murmured, settling her hand on the mattress and leaning on it. “You silly boys. If you’d just talked to each other about how you felt, we could have avoided all of this.”

“You think so?” Ren asked. He looked at Goro. “D’you think it would’ve made a difference? If we’d said something before… if you’d asked me out, or I’d realized you how felt… would you have teamed up with us for real?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” Goro murmured. “I’d committed myself to my revenge so fully. I would have had to have been convinced it was impossible before I could seriously consider a different path.”

“Mm.” He stroked his hair as he gazed into the middle distance. “Weirdly, that makes me feel a little better. We took the long way because that’s how it had to be.” He fixed a smile on Haru. “And this way, all three of us get to be together.”

Haru’s cheeks turned rosy as she smiled. “That’s true. I can hardly complain about that.”

Goro chuckled a little, relaxing at Ren’s touch and Haru’s agreement. “When you two put it like that, I feel a little better too.”

Ren leaned in to press a kiss on the crown of his head. “I’m glad.”

He leaned into Ren and curled a hand around Haru’s. What a wonderful Christmas Eve night. Could there be any better present than this?

“Are you two really going to stay the whole night?” he wondered aloud. “There isn’t anywhere for you to sleep.”

“It’s fine. We brought sleeping bags, among other things,” Ren said.

“Including a couple of presents,” Haru added, smiling.

Goro sat up straight. “Really? For me?”

“Who else?” Ren said, standing up. “But if we’re getting this sleepover started, we ought to wash up and get changed. Haru, hand me the duffel bag?”

As she handed it over, Goro asked, “You even brought a change of clothes?”

Ren gave him a half-amused, half-incredulous look. “Nah, Goro, I figured I’d just steal your clothes and blow you away with how amazing I look in them.”

He rolled his eyes, half-smiling. “Then I look forward to you embarrassing yourself with how much better I wear my wardrobe.”

“Shit, you’re right. I’ll never live down wearing a sweater vest.”

Haru smiled, eyes twinkling and full of mischief. “Especially not if we took pictures.”

He met her gaze. They both grinned, got out of bed, and advanced on Ren.

“No! No!! No!!” he protested, unconvincingly, given his laughter.

Ten minutes later, not only was Ren wearing a sweater vest ensemble, he was posing for the phone cameras. As Goro had predicted, his clothes were a little too big for Ren in the arms, chest, and shoulders; the button-up undershirt crumpled, the sleeves reached his thumbs, the tie (which Ren had insisted on tying himself no matter how badly he did it) was crooked, his slacks--well, his slacks actually fit Ren well, but the sweater vest itself… If it made Goro look like a stand-up straight-As prefect, it made Ren look like a shy, rumpled nerd. His glasses only completed the look as he posed with pencils and textbooks and wide-eyed, distant, unsmiling stares. He looked innocent, defenseless, and utterly adorable.

“You’re truly dangerous,” Goro commented, surveying the photo he’d just shot of him. “Judging solely by these photos, no one would ever guess your true nature.”

Ren looked directly into the camera and grinned that razor grin of his. Suddenly the would-be halo over his head seemed propped up by a pair of horns. Goro tapped the phone app and, in a literal flash, took another shot.

“It’s incredible how different you look when you smile like that,” Haru commented, admiring him. “It’s like night and day.”

He winked at her. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m all about the cute-but-dangerous aesthetic.”

Goro remarked wryly, “Does this mean your type is someone who reminds you of you?”

He paused, then made a face. “When you put it like that, it sounds egotistical.”

“Heaven forbid anyone accuse you of being egotistical.”

Ren made a sound of mock outrage. “I’ve never been egotistical a day in my life. Back me up here, Haru!”

She smiled. “Does deciding to seduce two people at once not count, then?”

He clutched his chest and staggered theatrically. “Et tu, Haru?”

She and Goro laughed. Honestly, Ren could be a world-class actor with all the theatrics he liked to put on. He put his phone away. “If we’re done taking photos, you should change into actual night clothes, Ren.”

“What’s wrong with me sleeping in this?”

“Aside from the thousand wrinkles you’re getting in my clothes as we speak?”

Ren flashed him another devilish grin. “You just want to undress me this time.”

“No, your disastrous attempt at tying your own tie is irritating me, and if you don’t undo it, I’m going to hang you by it.”

He draped himself over the foot of the bed. “Oh nooo, my would-be assassin is threatening to kill me, what else is new.”

Haru cupped her cheek. “It is an absolutely terrible attempt. Have you never tied a tie before?”

He sat up. “Never been to a school that made me have to.”

“You’re going to have to learn eventually,” Goro said.

And Ren looked at him and smiled. It was like a ray of sunshine pouring down through dark grey clouds. “With any luck, no I won’t.”

Goro blinked twice as his pulse raced. Before he could think of anything to say, Ren walked over to the bathroom.

“Fiiine, I’ll change out. Be back in a minute,” he said.

Once he’d shut the door, Haru remarked, “He really did look ridiculous in your clothes.”

Goro laughed. “Right?”

She held out her phone. It showed a photo of Ren sitting on a chair next to the window, gazing off into the distance, a pencil tapping his lips. “…But somehow, it worked for him.”

He leaned in for a better look. “…Yeah.”

She looked up at him. He looked back, and felt her breath on his lips. Their eyes met and lingered. It was strange to think that they’d started out as rivals for Ren’s affections and now had shared a passionate kiss with him and each other. Haru pushed back a lock of her hair, then offered him a smile. He returned it without thinking.

“Goro, I have an idea.” Then she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

Goro listened. By the end, he was barely suppressing a laugh. Haru leaned back, eyes sparkling. “That’s hilarious,” he whispered back. “Let’s do it.”

Haru grinned with all the mischief of a Pyro Jack. “Then follow my lead.”

Perfect timing: Ren opened the bathroom door and walked out, hair a little wet after he’d presumably washed up as best he could. He grinned at the two of them.

“Getting cozy?” he teased.

Haru’s smile brightened. “Oh, Ren! Lovely timing. There’s something Goro and I wanted to tell you. It’s about the three of us.”

Ren’s eyes widened, but he kept grinning as he raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah?”

Goro hid a smile behind one hand.

“Ren, I’ve had a truly wonderful time today,” Haru said, her smile brilliant as the dawning sun. “Not just today, but the other week, when we all went out together. I wanted to thank you for that. That date was my idea, but I would never have thought to include Goro if you hadn’t been chasing us both.”

“Likewise,” Goro chimed in. “I hadn’t enjoyed myself like that in a long time. Now that I’ve pulled out of that depressive spiral, I can see clearly now how much it meant to me.”

“No need for thanks. And I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” Ren reassured them. He ran his hand through his hair again. This time, the gesture was distinctly nervous, rather than conveying his usual easy self-confidence. “So then, you two are still feeling good about each other? I mean, I would assume so. Considering we were all kissing each other earlier.”

“Oh, yes, very much so,” Haru said, smile creeping wider.

Goro nodded as he showed off his teeth. “Indeed.”

“And…?” Ren prompted.

Haru took Goro’s hand in hers. “And thanks to you, Goro and I are going to be very happy together.”

Surprise knocked every other emotion out of his expression. “Uh. What?”

Goro’s smile grew, if anything, even broader. “In the course of competing over you, Haru and I realized we’d developed feelings for each other. So rather than fight over you, we decided we’ll simply have each other.” He smiled so hard his eyes squeezed briefly shut. “It’s all because you pushed us together, Ren. Thank you.”

Ren blinked once. Twice. “Oh… Cool. You’re welcome,” he said blankly. “Glad you two, uh. Found common ground?”

They both smiled at him.

“I guess. I should go. Um. Congratulations?”

Goro’s smile sharpened, and next to him so did Haru’s. She leaned an elbow on his shoulder and he set a hand on her hip. It was tremendously difficult to hold back laughter, so if Ren didn’t catch on soon--

“Wait. WAIT,” Ren finally uttered. “You guys are assholes!!”

Goro and Haru broke out laughing so hard the only thing keeping them upright was each other. Ren looked furious for a moment, but soon melted into good-natured exasperation, as indicated by how he smiled as he shook his head. He stepped over to them, and they both took him in their arms, and he wrapped his arms around them too.

“Damn,” he uttered once he’d calmed down enough. “You got me. You got me so hard.”

And even though that was the perfect lead-in for a dirty joke, they both just beamed at him.

“I hope you appreciate how difficult it was not to laugh before you clued in,” Goro said, all but sparkling.

“You were utterly blindsided,” Haru chimed in, smiling bright.

God. They were so pure. How could they be such jerks and still be so pure? Ren’s heart fluttered at the contradiction.

“I’ll get you two next time,” he replied, smiling back.

“You wish,” Goro said as Haru merely giggled.

Haru went to the bathroom to wash up and change. Goro, dressed in a hospital robe, didn’t need to put pajamas, but when she came out in hers, he went in to brush his teeth, wash his face, and comb his hair. It made him feel a little more put together, especially since he had no idea when he’d last bathed. He really didn’t want to think about how the hospital had handled that during his week-long coma.

Once he was back, Haru and Ren had used their rolled-up sleeping bags as seat cushions and set out Goro’s pillow for him. He sat with them at the foot of the hospital bed. Haru had brought out a large, rectangular zip-up pouch decorated with cherry blossoms. Goro supposed when one’s name meant ‘spring,’ one could ignore the actual season all one liked. As he watched, she spread out its contents, which were a fairly large spread of different kinds of make-up, on the foot of his bed.

“What’s all this for?” he wondered, looking over the cosmetics.

“I thought we could all have fun and play with them,” Haru said.

“Play?”

“Yes! I’ve always heard that makeovers are one of the basics of a sleepover.”

“I think that’s just with girls,” Ren remarked, crooking a half-smile.

She wilted. “You don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that. I don’t get to express my femme side enough anyway.” He grinned. “I’m only worried you don’t have anything in my color.”

She perked, smiling back. “We’ll just have to do our best with what we’ve got, then!”

“You’d probably be better off borrowing from Takamaki-san’s make-up kit,” Goro remarked, leaning forward to inspect the colors available. “I should be fine, though. It seems we have similar palettes.”

Ren looked at him with interest. “You wear make-up?”

“I am a celebrity, after all,” he replied, and didn’t add, For the time being.

“That is true. Men and women alike need make-up for the camera,” Haru said, joining him. She sorted through several different colors of nail polish, a few discs of skin lotion and foundation, blush, lipstick and lip gloss, eyeliner, and mascara. “It’s just done more obviously for women. I think you’re right that Ann-chan’s palette would suit him, though.” She appraised Ren. “I can just see him with the cherry red lipstick and smoky eyeshadow she tends to like.”

“I would look hot in that,” Ren agreed, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Sadly, I don’t have any red. It’s too garish on me,” she lamented, cupping her cheek with one hand. “I prefer pastels.”

“Spring colors,” Goro commented with a slight smile.

She giggled at his joke, and that warmed him inside, not unlike the spring sun.

“Eh, I’m sure it’ll work out,” Ren said. He then proceeded to drape his elbows on the bed and rest his chin on his hands, sparkling with mischief. “Make me beautiful.”

And so they did. Haru’s kit only went so far, with no foundation in his skin tone or lipstick in shades he liked, but the lotion worked fine. Haru had a good shade of navy blue for the eyeliner, at least, and the mascara and lip gloss worked wonders. When they were done, Ren’s handsomeness had ticked up a notch or two. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and declared he loved it.

Goro’s turn was next. Ren held his chin and pulled back his hair as Haru applied the foundation and everything, and Goro held still for them both, eyes shut. Honestly, he enjoyed just letting them touch him as they pleased… Human contact had been a luxury after his mother’s death, and they both touched him so fondly. They could make him look like a clown and it would be worth it. And as it turned out, he didn’t; Haru used a tasteful shade of coral for his lips and a similar shade of orange-gold to highlight his chestnut eyes. He was quite pleased with the result.

Haru went last. Goro and Ren put their absolute lack of knowledge of how to apply make-up to the test. Goro, after all, left that sort of thing to the professionals beyond basic skin care, and Ren had never really had an opportunity to experiment with make-up before. As such, Haru did end up looking like a clown, but they all had a good time and she ended up in a fit of barely-muffled giggles over it, so it worked out in the end.

That would have been the end of makeover hour, except Haru sighed that it was a shame they’d just wash it all off, and Ren suggested they paint each other’s nails different colors. Goro almost refused--surely the doctors and nurses would notice and ask questions--but Haru pointed out they could always claim it had happened during the party earlier that day, so he agreed after all. They each picked a color and chose a hand and took turns.

It was even nicer this way. Haru went first this time, and submitted her left hand to Ren and right to Goro. He carefully buffed her nails, pushed back her cuticles, applied nail strengthener, and then painted her nails pristine white. Once they dried, he covered them in clear polish, then applied a golden, starry glitter topcoat and one last coat of clear to seal it all in. Her hand was soft and smooth to the touch, and its warmth in his was truly wonderful.

Ren’s left hand was rougher, but somehow gentle. Perhaps it was the way Ren kept caressing Goro with his thumb while Goro was trying to paint his nails the same white and star-gold, no matter how many times Goro told him to hold still. Ren only smiled at him like annoying him was the greatest possible fun in the whole world, and it vexed him how much he enjoyed being annoyed by him.

But the best part was when he submitted his own hands to the each of them, when it was his turn to let them make art. Ren had chosen red with black glitterstars for his left hand, and Haru purple with silver glitterstars for his right. Like before, with that sensual encounter on the bed and when it was his turn for a makeover, there was something so utterly relaxing about letting Ren and Haru touch him as they pleased. To submit to them… to trust in them, and let that trust lead to its most logical conclusion.

I’ve never felt like this before, he’d said in Shido’s Palace, moments before he nearly killed himself trying to kill them for the highest possible stakes in all of their lives. I’ve never felt like this before, he thought now, recovering from a near-fatal encounter in a private hospital room, doing something that didn’t matter for fun, in the care of the two he most loved.

Truly, there was no happiness greater than this.

He reflected on that later, after Ren and Haru had gotten out his presents. The first of which was actually three tarot cards and a pamphlet explaining tarot readings. As the two explained they’d gotten a reading for him from a friend of Ren’s, he nodded and listened, then inspected his nails. They’d dried beautifully, glittering black and silver with fake stars. But these fake stars… they connected him to Ren and Haru. They were stars he could reach out and touch, that sparkled on the literal ends of his fingers.

This was a real connection. A true bond.

He kissed his fingertips, and looked back at his loves.

“Are you paying attention?” Ren asked then, pausing in the middle of arranging the cards.

Goro smiled. “Of course.”

Ren gave him a dubious look, but set down the last one anyway. “This is a basic past-present-future reading,” he said. “Chihaya did me a solid and gave me the cards she pulled so I could recreate her fortune for you.” He tapped the ‘past’ card, which was one Goro knew well: a crowned, robed man holding a sword aloft in one hand and hanging a set of scales in the other. In short, Justice. The card itself was upside-down relative to him, however.

“Justice Reversed,” Ren stated.

Haru opened up the pamphlet. “‘When upright, Justice represents justice, fairness, truth, cause and effect, and the law,’” she read. “‘However, when reversed, the meaning changes to unfairness, lack of accountability, and dishonesty.’”

“Chihaya basically said,” Ren continued, “that this means that in the past, you were lying to yourself and others--that you’d done things you knew were wrong, and you were too caught up in your own fears and lies to take responsibility for it. As far as when you were a kid is concerned, she said you might’ve been subject to lies and a refusal to take responsibility, which influenced you to do the same later on.”

Goro twisted a bitter half-smile. “Are you sure you didn’t just tell her what I’ve told you verbatim?”

“I promise I didn’t,” Ren replied, half-smiling back.

Haru pointed to the next card in the triangle. “This one is the Hanged Man, upright,” she said. Sure enough, it depicted a man hanging from a tree by a rope tied around his ankle, his arms and other leg folded behind himself. Despite the uncomfortable position, he smiled serenely as a halo illuminated his head. “According to this, it represents pause, surrender, letting go, and new perspectives.”

“Since it’s in the ‘present’ position, it represents who you are and what you’re going through right now,” Ren said. “The pause can be something you chose for yourself, or it can be the universe slapping you upside the head with a week-long coma as a way of saying, ‘woah, slow down and think about what’s going on already.’”

Goro snorted with wry laughter. Still… this one, too, was on the nose. Hadn’t he already mused several times tonight how much he was willing to give up to make the ones he loved happy? How much he’d never felt like this before…?

“It means that you should stop, take a minute, and really think things over,” Ren continued. He paused himself to give Goro a significant look.

“If you mean turning myself in, I believe I’ve already given it considerable thought,” he replied. Then he paused. “…Though it’s true, when I originally decided on it, I was in an emotional down-spiral.”

“So then…” Haru started.

Goro shook his head, though. “It’s not like that anymore. That decision is no longer an impulsive, self-destructive one. I just…” His voice caught in his throat; he swallowed hard. “I want to be someone you two can be proud of loving.”

Haru’s expression turned wistful, while Ren’s warmed and gentled. Both of them held Goro’s hands for a moment; the stars on their fingertips sparkled in the low light.

“Actions have consequences,” Goro continued in a low voice. “I’m merely accepting mine… in the hopes of a better future.”

Ren laughed quietly. “Funny you should say that.” With his free hand, he pointed to the last card. A nude woman knelt at a waterbank, pouring out water from vases into the stream and onto the ground with each hand, as several stars shone overhead. “This is the Star, upright, representing the future.”

“It means ‘hope, faith, purpose, renewal, spirituality,’” Haru recited before setting the pamphlet down. “Chihaya-chan said that though a star may be far away, it remains a guiding light to draw one further down the right path. Someone with the Star in their future is heading towards a period of love and peace after being stripped of all delusions and overcoming great turmoil.”

“A distant hope that promises a brighter tomorrow,” Ren concluded. “In short, everything will turn out okay in the end. You just have to keep the faith.”

Goro picked up the Star tarot with both hands. “A distant hope,” he echoed softly. For a moment, his vision blurred; then he clutched the card to his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Perhaps this time, I can truly believe that.”

Ren and Haru gently wiped the budding tears from the corners of his eyes. Goro basked in their touches. Then he picked up the other two cards and set them back down, Justice before Ren, Hanged Man before Haru.

“I want you two to keep those cards,” he murmured. “And I’ll keep this one. So we can always look and remember how we feel, even when we’re apart.”

At first, they looked as though they might protest. When he explained himself, though, they each smiled and picked up their respective cards.

“Sounds good to me,” Ren said, tucking his into a pocket.

“I’ll treasure it,” Haru said warmly, slipping hers into her make-up bag with the rest of her kit.

Goro shone a warm smile on them. A broad yawn unhinged it, though; he only barely covered it with a hand in time. “I’m sorry,” he said, blinking slowly. “It seems I’m ready to rest again…”

“It is almost two in the morning,” Haru said, checking her phone. “We should get some rest if we’re going to sneak out in time in the morning.”

“But before that,” Ren said, “we want you to open your other present.”

Haru smiled and nodded, then fetched a package from the duffel bag.

It was fairly large, wrapped in tasteful white snow-printed wrapping paper and a glossy red ribbon. Goro eased back onto the bed, then pulled it onto his lap and carefully opened it. His eyes widened when he saw the contents.

“A miniature projector?” he asked, pulling the mounted globe out of the box.

“I told you before, I love the stars,” Ren said softly, chin on his hands. “I wanted to take you two on a date to the local planetarium, but who knows when that’ll get to happen. So, after we got that fortune from Chihaya, I commented about it to Haru, and she had the idea to bring the planetarium to you.”

“I saw it on sale when we were at the electronics store,” Haru said, smiling. “But I’d forgotten all about it until Ren said something. We thought it would be perfect for the three of us.”

Something caught in Goro’s throat. To touch the fake stars within reach, rather than yearn for the untouchable real stars… “I love it,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

They both beamed at him. Together, they set up the projector atop the heart monitor at the end of the bed and turned it on. It displayed a brilliant galaxy of stars on the darkened walls and ceiling, then slowly rotated like the night sky. All three settled in, Haru and Ren now kneeling at the front of the bed to cuddle Goro. Each of them held hands with the other as they admired the spiraling stars.

Strange. Though he had lost the dreams he’d once held of becoming a beloved and respected detective, though his life might well end up forfeit, he was neither sad nor anxious. Here, huddled under a cloak of stars, he—no, all three of them together, had found something even better.

Goro basked in the company of his beloveds and drifted off into sweet dreams.

Chapter Text

“The court hereby finds the defendant, Goro Akechi, guilty of the murder of Kunikazu Okumura,” the judge announced. “As for his sentence...”

The heavily packed cardboard box went whump as Goro placed it on the floor. He stood up, stretched, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally, we’re done.”

“Good work,” Sae said from the other side of what was once Makoto’s room. Now it was simply the second bedroom of a two-bedroom high-rise apartment, clean and bare of personal affects, with only a bed, a desk and chair, several bookcases, and clothing racks in the closet to furnish it. Several boxes like the one Goro had just set down piled in one corner. “Though considering you still need to unpack your things, I wouldn’t say you’re done quite yet.”

Goro laughed faintly. “Not to mention all the work I have ahead of me assisting you with building the cases against Shido and his circle.”

She quirked a slight smile. “Indeed. A confession can only go so far when it involves a purely mental world that no longer exists. Your testimony will help ensure their lawyers can’t plead insanity on their behalf.”

“I’m sure they’ll try. But I’ll do all I can to stop them.” Goro stretched again, this time backwards, and settled down on his new bed. It felt strange, knowing that it had once been Makoto’s, but she wouldn’t need it now that she was attending college. As for him, well—he’d been lucky to have been allowed to finish high school. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

“I’m glad to hear it. That is one of the terms of your sentence.” Sae folded her arms. “…I’m not surprised, though. You’ve always taken everything you do seriously. It’s one thing I could always count on you for.”

For a moment, he stared at the ceiling; then he stretched out a leg and considered the tracking band affixed to his ankle. “Say, Sae-san? May I ask you something?”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Why did you agree to saddle yourself with me?”

“As for his sentence,” the judge had said, “under normal circumstances, when a criminal is found guilty of a crime, they are sent to jail with the expectation that they will undergo rehabilitation, come to understand whom they have hurt, and eventually repent and re-enter society. A criminal whose crimes are grave enough, who shows no signs of penitence, may be sent to jail for the rest of his life--or even be sentenced to death--so that he may never hurt another innocent person again.

“However, after hearing all sides of testimony at this trial and reviewing all the evidence, this court has reason to believe that the guilty party already understands and regrets his sins. What’s more, he is a minor, not yet even graduated from high school. It is therefore the view of this court that neither life in prison nor the death penalty are appropriate in this situation. Furthermore, it has been brought to the court’s attention that there is a place and sentence that best befits this particular criminal, where he may best use his abilities as a former detective for the good of society and make amends for his crimes.

“As such, I hereby sentence the guilty party to ten years of prison, to begin in a medical prison until he has fully recovered from his recent injuries, then continuing as house arrest under the custody of his legal guardian. He will continue to cooperate with the prosecution of the conspiracy that enveloped Tokyo these past two years, undertake mandatory weekly therapy sessions and regular doctor’s visits for his mental and physical health, and work diligently towards the betterment of himself and society at large.”

He banged his gavel, loud and clear. “That is all. Case dismissed.”

“‘Saddle myself with you’… That’s quite a statement,” Sae remarked, expression clouding. “You make it sound as though you’re a burden.”

Goro looked over at her. “Aren’t I?”

“Maybe so. But Makoto was right that night she chased me to the elevator. If I’d taken my legal obligations towards you more seriously, maybe none of this would have happened. There’s no helping the past, though, so the best thing I can do is give you a home base where you can work on serving your debt to society.”

He stared back at the tracking band. If he left the Niijima apartment, it would instantly alert the police that he’d violated the terms of his house arrest, and they’d swarm on him to throw him into a jail cell far less pleasant than this one. “I suppose I’m surprised you were allowed to do that and still stay on as prosecutor for the Shido case.”

“Truthfully, I’m not certain I’ll be a prosecutor for much longer.”

He shot her a wide-eyed look. “Huh? You don’t mean…?”

“I’m not getting fired or laid off,” she reassured him. “But I’ve been thinking—after meeting Amamiya-kun, I wonder if I’d find more fulfillment as a defense lawyer instead of a prosecutor.”

A rueful smile pulled up his lips. “Oh? And defend criminals from the justice system?”

“That’s why I’ve only been thinking about it so far,” she said dryly. “The ideal is to defend the innocent from accusations of crimes they didn’t commit… but not every client will be innocent. Either way, it’s my future. I’ll need more time to consider it carefully—and I won’t settle on anything until after we’ve seen everything through. That alone might take years, depending on how many people come forward to file cases against Shido and his co-conspirators.”

He laughed a little. “At least you’ll have plenty of use for me for the time being, then.”

For a moment, Sae only considered him. Then she walked over and joined him to sit on the edge of the bed. “Akechi-kun,” she murmured. “This may not be my business, but are you feeling lonely?”

“I… would be lying if I said I weren’t,” he admitted with difficulty. Leaning his elbows on his knees and criss-crossing his fingers, he continued, “Ren’s gone back home to the country and Haru will be busy with business school… House arrest is a far better sentence than anything I could have reasonably anticipated, and believe me, I am grateful to you for making that possible.” He forced a smile her way. “It’s just something I’ll have to deal with.”

“You’ll have plenty of help with that via your therapist, at least. And you’re still alive. Amamiya-kun stated his intention to return to Tokyo for college, and Haru-san won’t be so busy she can’t come visit you on occasion.” Sae smiled. “I’ll be sure to give you plenty of work, too, so you won’t have time to be depressed.”

He laughed again, this time with sincerity. “I’m afraid depression doesn’t care if you’re busy or not, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. My stay in Hachioji Medical Prison gave me a keen reminder of how poorly I take to a surfeit of idle time.”

She nodded. “On that note, I wanted to discuss with you what you’d like to do with yourself when you’re not assisting me. I can’t be here all the time, after all.”

Though he’d had plenty of time to think about it, Goro hesitated before answering. “Of course, I’d like to continue my studies…” he said slowly. “I imagine it would help you out a lot if I took care of the cooking and cleaning while you’re gone as well—would it be all right if you let me handle that?”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

“Ahaha, are you that surprised? But I like the satisfaction that comes from a clean room, and… well, you know I’m not much of a cook. But that was because I didn’t have the time for it before.” He gazed out a nearby window. “Truthfully, I thought, Ren and Haru both enjoy good food so much… it would be nice to learn how to make something good for them.”

“And I’m to be your guinea pig?” Sae smiled ruefully and shook her head. “All right. I don’t mind that. It would help me out, and it’s good for you to have a specific idea of how to engage with your rehabilitation. I’ll be sure to get you some cookbooks and how-to DVDs along with textbooks for you to study. Could you help with the laundry as well?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They discussed what subjects for him to study as well. While he’d been given permission to take his high school finals and thus barely squeak through graduation, despite not directly attending school for the entire winter semester, college was out of the question. Sae supported his desire to further his education, though, and they agreed on several types of science, math, and language for him to read up on his own once she got the textbooks for him. He felt better about things overall once they’d settled on everything. He always did thrive in the framework of a good plan.

After a time, she excused herself to handle dinner. Goro took the opportunity to unpack. His personal possessions had ended up in storage after he’d turned himself in; Ren and the others had taken care to pack everything up for him and clean up his old apartment, just as promised. His old furniture and most of his electronics had gone on auction, but he still had his clothes, his books, his trinkets, his phone and laptop… It could certainly be worse.

He’d need his clothes the most, so he put those away first. Once he was done, he set aside his phone and laptop on the desk, then moved on to the books, which would clear up the heavier boxes and would also be simple to put away. The trinkets he considered, then grimaced and decided to leave in their boxes for the time being. Some of them were difficult to look at.

Afterwards, he took a quick shower with Sae’s permission and changed into fresh clothes. By the time he was done, Sae had finished a simple dinner of oven-roasted salmon and vegetables with a side of rice. Goro thanked her for the meal, and washed the dishes once they were both done.

Afterwards, he opened up his laptop with the intent to check its condition. He was surprised to see a sticky note attached to the monitor with nothing more than a web address with a username and password. Ren and Haru had both signed it, though, with a heart encapsulating their names… Goro’s online time was limited to an hour per day, so he waited until after he’d checked the laptop’s data to connect.

The website turned out to be a private forum. Ren and Haru had already posted once each, and it looked like they were the only other members.

Ren’s post read: “Surprise, Goro! Haru and I decided to let this be a secret, so here’s an introduction post. Let’s see, I set this up with some help from Futaba. Don’t worry, I made her swear she wouldn’t monitor it. This place is just for the three of us. It’ll be hard for us to get together for a while, I think, so I wanted to make sure we could at least still talk… Posting pictures is OK too.” This was punctuated by a photo of himself in the mirror in an unfamiliar bathroom. He was a little rumpled, like he’d just gotten out of bed, and smiling that beautifully cocky grin of his. “Me and the ‘rents are already driving each other crazy, but I’ve been through way worse hells than this, so it’s whatever. Still can’t wait to graduate and go to college in Tokyo. Already miss you guys x1,000,000. ♥, Ren.”

Haru’s post read: “I’m truly excited for us to start using this site in earnest. I miss you so much too, Ren. Goro, you might be wondering why we haven’t already filled up this forum with posts. Well, the reason is because this site is specifically for the three of us. I don’t want us to run away with it without you. If Ren and I really wanted to talk, we can text or call each other, but I don’t think you don’t have that luxury, do you? In any case, I’ve been doing well at business school so far. Takakura-san has been a big help as well. While I may not have chosen to step up as CEO of Okumura Foods, I’m learning so much every day, and I think I would be too pressured to really absorb and enjoy my time if I were trying to run the company, so I don’t regret my decision.” Here, a photo of herself in a lavender and white dress, sitting primly at the Okumura Foods meeting table. Her smile had a distinctly mischievous air. “I’ll check this site every day until I see something new. ♥, Haru.”

Goro’s smile grew wider and wider as he read and re-read the two messages until he felt so light and bubbly that he had to get up and pace a few circles before he could compose a response.

“You two really are too good to me,” he began writing. “I’m out of Hachioji and all moved into Sae-san’s apartment now. We had a long discussion earlier about what I’m to do while I’m under house arrest in her custody. I suppose it’s fortunate that I got so gravely injured; it allowed enough time for Makoto to move out into a college dorm, giving me space to move in. On top of a more or less full recovery from my bullet wounds, my traumatic brain damage doesn’t appear to have worsened. I still experience symptoms like dizziness, headaches, and mood swings, but between my mandated psychologist and doctor’s visits, I should hopefully have it under control. Incidentally, I’ve decided I’d like to learn how to cook. Do you two have any requests for what dishes I should start with?”

And post. He leaned back in his chair with a faint sigh. Then he glanced at the time. Only a little over a half-hour left… His online time constraints really were going to be tough. But, well, it wasn’t a punishment if it wasn’t. He’d already been given far too many concessions for the crimes he’d committed.

Still, he composed a second post. “Oh, I almost forgot: I’m only allowed one hour of internet per day. Please let me know when you two are usually online, so I know when to connect.”

When the forum reloaded after his second post, a third came with it, from Ren: “OMG GORO ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ I MISSED YOU INTENSELY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US YOU WERE LEAVING JAIL TODAY” Then a second post: “oh, limited internet. yeah okay that tracks”

“Did you always have such poor punctuation?” Goro typed back, even as he beamed at the messages.

Ren responded with an emoji of a frowny-face sticking its tongue out. Then he added, “I already texted Haru letting her know to pop on. Hopefully she does before you have to go.” Then: “Right now I’m pretty busy with lots of stuff, but I can make some time each day in the evening for sure. That’s usually when Haru’s got some free time, too.”

With perfect timing, a new message loaded in then from Haru: “I’m here! I’m here!!” Then: “Goro! I missed you, too! ♥”

Goro smiled warmly at his monitor. It wasn’t the same as meeting face-to-face, but it was far better than nothing. “Instant forum messages are a sight better than having to exchange paper letters, aren’t they? So much faster,” he posted. He paused. “I truly missed you both two. I” He paused again, then concluded, “was lonely without you.”

“awwwwwwwwwwwww,” Ren posted, to which Goro snapped off, “You’re so obnoxious.” Still, he smiled as he typed.

“Aww, but I thought the same thing. Am I obnoxious too?” Haru posted.

“No, you could never be as obnoxious as him.”

“Oh no! I’m going to have to try harder, then.”

“Ren, you’re a bad influence on her.”

Ren just posted “:D”

“Seriously though, I don’t have much time left for tonight,” Goro added. “Schedules and menus?”

“Oh yes! My schedule is a bit hectic—I’ve also started an internship at Leblanc,” Haru posted. “But I think I can consistently become available starting 10 PM.”

Ren added, “I should be able to swing that too. As for the menu, how about hot pot? By the time you master it, it’ll be the right season. P.S. I don’t care what Yusuke says, you finish hot pot with udon.”

“I’m not sure if you expect too much or too little from me, but I’ll keep that in mind,” Goro typed. The udon comment, he left alone. “Hot pot does seem like it would be fun to make. It’s basically just dipping raw ingredients in hot broth, so it shouldn’t be too hard, either, I hope.”

“How about fresh bread? I’ve always thought kneading dough looks like it would be a lot of fun,” Haru suggested. “We could all do it together sometime the next time we get together. Oh, and you could mail us what you make in the meantime so we can sample it and tell you what we think!”

“Hell yeah,” Ren posted.

Goro smiled. “That does sound fun, too. All right, I’ll give it my best so I don’t let you two down.”

“You could never,” Ren posted, which was patently ridiculous but also very sweet.

“I’m looking forward to tasting it!” Haru added.

Honestly… If they weren’t who they were, Goro would swear they were both either simple or liars. As it stood, fondness for the two of them warmed his heart. After quickly looking up a basic recipe for bread, he posted, “I should go for tonight. Good night, Ren, Haru.”

“I already can’t wait for tomorrow,” Ren posted.

“We’ll talk to you soon, Goro. Take care of yourself,” Haru posted.

“Likewise. Take care.”

Goro shot off that post just in time; the automatic online timer hit zero the next instant. But he had the cache up for the forum and the recipe, so he could read them over as he pleased. He indulged in re-reading his missives with Ren and Haru, reflecting that while it would be nice to have a letter in his hands, he wasn’t sad about this at all. He decided to compromise and copied the bread recipe down on paper.

Proofing would take surprisingly long. At least two separate two-hour instances to let the dough rise… Well, if it took that long, what better time than now to start? If only to take stock of what he had and what he’d need to create something for Haru and Ren. Haha… He’d yearned so passionately for a new beginning, one where he was wanted and loved, and now--quite despite his efforts--he finally had it. Step by step, he’d draw closer to the distant hope his loves had given him.

Humming in contentment, Goro walked to the kitchen and got to work.