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The small, dusty moon whose coordinates Ren had entered into the piloting system of his ship was officially registered as YJ-85604, but everyone called it Yongen-Jaya. Because it was a haven for outlaws and outcasts, some people also called it a shithole. Well, shithole or not, Ren reflected, gazing out at the view of the moon from the window of his ship, there was no place quite like home.
It took a while to disembark. Yongen's docking bay was overcrowded and inefficient on the best of days. After Ren was finally able to dock his ship, it didn't take long before the other travelers and workers at the dock noticed him. He was wealthy in social currency among outlaws and outcasts, after all.
"Amamiya, you're back?"
"Amamiya, if you need anything while you're here, gimme a call."
"Amamiya… hell, you just stay away from me."
Ren gave each of the people who spoke to him a smile and tossed around promises to reconnect or do business later on. He wasn't being entirely honest, though. He wasn't sure if he'd get the chance.
There had been an influx of immigrants lately, Ren noted on his way out. Most Yongen natives were humans, but on his way out of the port Ren observed people of all kinds– androids from Ikebukuro, shark-folk from Ichigaya, and all manner of others. He wasn't sure about what that could mean about the way things were in the rest of the solar system. If people were fleeing to Yongen…
Ren shook off the thought. He needed more information. And there was only one place he could get it and reconnect with one of his favorite people at the same time.
"So," Futaba said, leaning back in her chair. "Those reported sightings I picked up on my transceiver of your ship on a course for Yongen weren't complete bullshit."
Ren smiled. "I guess they weren't."
Futaba's shop didn't seem like much, but then, nothing in Yongen did. It took a discerning eye to see that the gadgets here piled on shelves or strewn otherwise haphazardly about the room would be worth millions if sold, on either the black or white markets. Futaba's stuff rivaled the galaxy's best, but she didn't want a tech empire. She was in the business of making things work– of turning what used to be junk into indispensable, highly-efficient communication technology.
"Should've known. Arsene is unmistakable. You could have called ahead," said Futaba grumpily.
Ren reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a small package, which he placed squarely on Futaba's desk. "For you."
"Ooh, a bribe." Futaba wasted no time unwrapping the package. When she saw its contents, her eyes widened. "Holy shit, this is an upgraded processor for the next generation of mini-transceivers. I haven't been able to find that anywhere here!"
"There's more."
"There is?" Futaba dug around inside the box and gasped. "A special-edition Galactic Knight Red Hawk figure!" She beamed. "You remembered!"
"Of course I did. I missed you, you know."
"Alright. Maybe I forgive you now. But now I wanna know why you're here, after five whole years." Futaba squinted at him, and he thought he heard her glasses whir softly. "Making a pit stop? Does Arsene need any spare parts? Or did you finally run out of cash? Because I'm not fixing anything for you for free."
"No," said Ren. "Actually, someone wants to kill me."
Futaba groaned. "Who is it this time?"
"An old friend. Haven't met up with him in five years now. But I will, tomorrow– earlier, maybe. Depends on if he wants to see me before the time he set for our date."
"You're dueling? With who?" But as soon as she said it, Futaba's eyes widened. "l… wait, five years ago…"
Ren half-shrugged.
"Ren," Futaba hissed. "You led him to Yongen?"
"Futaba, he set the date. I was light-years away from here just last week. I thought all the cloaking tech on my ship would protect me when I passed by Shibuya, but he found me anyway." Ren shrugged again, helplessly. "If I don't fight him tomorrow… well, pretty sure he'll just hunt me down. I'm saving him the trouble."
Futaba pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know what they're calling him now."
"The Carrion Magistrate, or whatever? Yeah. I did some research."
"Then you know that he can't come here. This place is a last resort for people who've been run out!" Futaba's lip curled. "This rock's become one of the only places people can hide from the Magistrate's law enforcement. Every planet, every moon he's landed on– arrests, executions, complete shitstorms. He's a cop mercenary– every goddamn government in this solar system loves him. Is there anything worse than that?!"
Ren sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Probably not."
"If you lose," Futaba continued, "he'll turn Yongen into another one of his targets. He'll use you as an example– the great thief, finally KO'd by the Magistrate. He'll have more power than anybody should."
"Well, good thing that's not happening." Ren paused. "Hopefully."
"So you're not going to die." Futaba leaned back and folded her arms.
"Not planning on it."
"And you're gonna kill him."
"Well, if I have to."
"He hates you, you know," Futaba told him. "Guy definitely has no qualms about wanting you dead."
"But, Futaba, I think something's up."
"What do you mean?"
"If he wanted revenge, why did he wait this long? If he could bypass the tech on Arsene, he could have gotten to me anytime. I'm… Well, you said it yourself. My ship is recognizable." Ren cracked a smile. "And it's not like I'm very hard to find, even when I'm not on it."
Futaba shook her head. "Some ex-thief."
"Emphasis on ex." Ren stretched his arms high above his head and rolled his shoulders. "Anyway, I need your help. I think there's more to this."
"More to him just wanting to kill you because he's crazy and a total dick? I doubt it." But Futaba sounded reluctant. "Fine. What do you need from me?"
"I'll tell you later. Before that…" Ren smiled. "I'm going to Leblanc."
Thievery was a useful profession, but so was bartending. In a galaxy like this, everyone needed a drink sometimes. And Ren just happened to be a damn good hand at it. He could thank Sojiro for teaching him all that.
"I get the feeling you're here because of some bad business," Sojiro told Ren. He was standing by the door in his coat, arms folded.
Ren smiled. "Boss, I'm hurt."
"Yeah, yeah. Well, whatever it is… you take care of yourself. You'll come to me, won't you? If you need help?"
Ren nodded. "Of course."
Sojiro sighed. "All right. I suppose I should thank you for giving me a night off."
"Got a hot date?"
"Watch your mouth. Maybe I'll go see that intergalactic dance troupe that's in town."
Ren shuddered. "You do that. I caught them a parsec away from here in Harajuku a couple of years back."
"Well, hopefully they've improved since then." Sojiro put a hand on the door to leave. Then he paused and turned to Ren. "Kid," he said, "I'm glad you're back."
Ren saluted. "Glad to be back, Boss."
Sojiro shook his head, but he smiled. Then he was out the door. Through the window, Ren saw him flip the closed sign on the door to open.
Ren settled in behind the bar, ready to learn the rhythm of Leblanc again. After pulling off that job five years ago, the Phantom Thieves had had to disband. Ren didn't regret that– it was the right time for things to end. What he had missed ever since, though, was Leblanc. This was his home.
And these were his people. Ren smiled at the familiar faces as they began to come through the door, greeting each person as he recognized them. He could still remember which drink the hoverbike mechanic next door always got, and the way Tae Takemi liked her cocktails.
This could be his last night here– or his last night, period. Why not indulge a little?
About halfway through the night, the door opened. Ren didn't hear it, at first, amidst all the noise. Leblanc was busy, after the news that Ren had returned. But that didn't mean that nobody else took notice. All at once, a sudden silence fell over the crowd.
Ren was chatting with a patron at the bar, but he looked up in confusion when he heard the hush fall.
And there he was, standing in the entryway.
Ren had wondered if he would come, but it still didn't prepare him for the sight of the man in front of him. That was one of Akechi's major advantages: he knew how to make an entrance. Ren could prepare for years and still feel his heartbeat accelerate when he finally showed up.
He was wearing his magistrate's robes, deep red and solemnly formal with the badge affixed, and the high collar of a delicate dress shirt underneath covered his neck in black. His hair was pulled back and tied, and ruby earrings dangled from his ears. The light, placid smile on his face betrayed nothing at all.
He looked devastating. He looked like he wouldn't hesitate for a moment to plunge a blade through Ren's chest. Ren slowly set down the glass he was holding.
"Amamiya," Goro Akechi said, walking easily towards the bar. "I heard you'd decided to return."
The last time he'd heard that voice it had been through the transceiver on his spaceship, crackling with static and blunted in meaning. Now he could hear everything, though. He could hear exactly what Akechi felt for him.
"Well," Ren said, "you know why I'm here."
Akechi sat down at the bar and smiled as he steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, his jet-black gloves reflecting no light at all. "Indeed I do."
"Can I get you anything?"
"I don't think so."
"Aw, come on." Ren leaned forward, his elbows on the counter. "I know you hate me, but you could stop pretending you hate my drinks."
"Very well," Akechi said, indulgent. "Why don't you surprise me?"
"Sure thing. I think I know what you like." Ren turned around and reached for a bottle.
When he was done making the drink, he leaned under the counter to fetch a glass. It didn't surprise him very much when he stood back up and saw that Akechi had a plasma gun pointed at him.
"What happened to your sword?" Ren asked mildly.
"Oh, I upgraded." Akechi lowered his weapon, like it had never been aimed at Ren's forehead at all, and casually spun it around in his hand.
Ren set the glass down on the table. "It's so much less stylish, though. You don't want something elegant?"
"A gun is your weapon of choice, though, too, isn't it?" Akechi pulled the glass closer to him with the hand that wasn't holding a lethal weapon that could kill Ren in less than two milliseconds.
Ren tightened the hand he'd placed on his holster under his jacket. "Yeah, actually."
"Yes, I remember," Akechi said quietly, lowering his gaze to the counter. "After all, it was the plasma blast from your gun that killed my father."
For just a fraction of a second, Ren's gaze flickered over to the rest of the bar. It was quite empty, now. He'd been so focused on Akechi he hadn't even noticed everyone leaving.
"Akechi," Ren said carefully.
"Shut up."
Akechi's still wasn't looking at Ren. His voice had changed. He sounded cold, unaffected. "You exhaust me, Amamiya."
Ren kept quiet.
"Your silly ideas, your cheeky self-obsession– oh, it used to make me furious. But now? You bore me, Amamiya. You bore me immensely." Akechi picked up his glass and took a long sip of his drink. Ren watched the line of his throat as he drank.
"How is it?" Ren said, after a moment.
"Not bad." Akechi reached over to the end of the counter and calmly grabbed a cocktail napkin, with which he wiped his mouth. "You know, I came here to tell you that this run-down little moon has gone without order for far too long."
"You think so?"
Akechi smiled. "I think it wouldn't be very hard to change that. After all, where I go, the law follows."
"Yeah, I heard about all that," Ren said. "The Carrion Magistrate, huh? What you're been doing doesn't sound much like law and order to me."
"I don't like that name. It's very crude. And I wouldn't expect you to know anything about law and order." Akechi stood up, his glass still half-full. He took his gun from the counter and his hand disappeared under his robes to holster it. "I'll see you tomorrow, Amamiya. You know which place and time. It's for the best that you don't forget."
"Sure. But I'm still gonna need you to pay for your drink."
"Ha." Akechi laughed. Like it didn't matter to him at all, he reached up, took one of the rubies from his ear, and tossed it on the counter. It landed with a thunk.
"I look forward to our meeting, Amamiya," Akechi said. "Do take care."
And with a swish of his robes and the opening of a door, he was gone.
The earring had a tracker in it, obviously.
"Seriously, how predictable," Futaba said as she glared at the small, black device. "As if anyone could hide Shibuyan tech from me. Mona!"
Futaba's cat poked its head out into the doorway to her room.
"Here, kitty." She reached out, and once Mona had come into her arms, she affixed the tracker to his collar. "Okay, go! Cause chaos!"
Mona wriggled out of her arms and bounded away.
"Futaba," Ren sighed from his place on the floor. "We could have figured out a way to use that."
"I hate him. Classic Akechi. Acting all smooth and then using tactics like that," Futaba fumed.
"That's one thing that hasn't changed about him, I suppose. Have you finished researching?"
"Yeah." Futaba returned to her bed and pressed a button on her computer. "I'm sending everything over to you on the encrypted channel."
Ren touched the transceiver at his wrist and pulled up the file on the holographic screen that had appeared in front of him. His brow furrowed as he began to read through the information.
"This mean anything to you?" Futaba asked, after giving him a moment. "There's a ton of other stuff that's encrypted. I could crack that, too, but it could take a while."
"This should be fine." A picture was slowly forming in Ren's mind. "I'm gonna take some time and read over this. Thanks, Futaba. I think I have a pretty good guess."
"Bringing a guess to a gunfight, huh?" Futaba said flatly.
"A very good guess."
"Ren," Futaba said.
Her face was serious when he looked over at her. She considered him, and then she took off her glasses. Her eyes looked resolute.
"I'm not letting you die," she said. "I'm not the weak little girl you left behind. You should know that. He's a threat to you and to Yongen. Even if you won't, I'll kill Akechi if I have to."
Ren wasn't surprised. This was what he'd been expecting since he met with her that morning. "I know," he said.
"Good." Futaba put her glasses back on. "Now, are you up for curry? I'm starving."
So it actually was going to be a gunfight.
Ren set the dial on his gun to kill and really hoped it wouldn't come to that. He shuffled a little, kicking up clouds of dirt with his steel-toed boots, and looked around at the place Goro had chosen. Another one of Yongen's abandoned markets. A great number of them had been revitalized since Yoshida had taken over as governor, but there were still places like these, quiet and dirty, miniature ghost towns.
Ren had been here for ten minutes now, and his patience was growing thin. He took a breath and raised his voice. "You know, I still think we can talk this out."
"Not likely."
Ren's hand instinctively flew to his holster. The voice was coming from behind him. He turned around.
Akechi wasn't smiling today. He'd traded the robes for another high-collared dress shirt and pants that he'd probably gotten tailored to specifications. A crimson sash was tied around his waist, and one ruby still hung on his ear. His gun was in his hand.
"You look great," Ren said. "I'm sorry I didn't dress up, too. Nice trick with the earring, by the way."
Akechi raised his gun and fired.
It wasn't meant to hit. The plasma beam shot just past Ren's ear. Still, Ren hadn't been expecting it. He dodged, darting out of the way.
"You should take this a little more seriously, Amamiya," Akechi said calmly. "After all, I'm going to kill you today."
"That's not really in my itinerary for this visit," Ren said, and ran, taking his gun from his holster as he did.
He needed to get low, Ren thought to himself as blasts from Akechi's gun fired behind him. Dodging a beam that came particularly close, he leapt behind a dilapidated stall and ran over to a pile of old trash, hoping to hide behind it until he could work out a strategy.
But Akechi was closely following, and had jumped down to position himself on the other side of Ren's barrier. He took aim and fired again. Ren hissed through his teeth and shot back.
They didn't stay there for long. Akechi was constantly trying to get closer, and Ren was having a hell of a time trying to dodge his blasts while he moved away. He was on the defensive, and he couldn't keep it up for much longer. He needed to do something, or he would die.
Or Futaba would kill Akechi. He knew she had her drones in the air– he couldn't see them; they were almost definitely cloaked, but he knew her.
And before that happened, Ren needed some answers.
"So," Ren shouted over his shoulder. "Shido. He didn't claim you as his son until you were a teenager, huh?"
Another blast. This one singed his hair. "Fuck you," came Akechi's furious voice.
"Did you know who he was before then? Did you know what he did?" Fuck, Ren was running out of places to hide. The blasts from both of their guns had decimated a good portion of the area. He was running as fast as he could to the crumbling wall at the back of the market– a dead end.
"You may have wanted him to take you in," Ren gasped, "but he was a monster." There was a small gap in the wall. A few jagged bricks forming steps. If he could get to the hole, or climb up–
He wouldn't get that far.
One of Akechi's blasts had to get him, eventually. This one took him in the shoulder. Not enough to get through the defense of his bulky jacket– but enough to knock him on the ground.
Fuck.
With difficulty, Ren rolled over onto his back, wincing. He looked up at the heavens. "Not yet!" he shouted weakly to the sky.
"Sorry, Amamiya, but if it makes you feel better, judgment day comes for everybody, eventually." Akechi was walking over to him leisurely, taking his sweet time. Swaying his hips, even. Not that Ren was paying attention to that. He was more concerned with the gun in Akechi's hand.
Akechi reached Ren's fallen body and very calmly placed one of his boots on Ren's chest. Ren hissed in pain.
"I guess I can tell you, seeing as you're about to die." There was a barely-controlled fury in Akechi's voice. "I hate you for killing him because I was going to do it myself."
Ren swallowed.
"That man abandoned my mother," Akechi continued. "He made my life hell. He was my mark. Mine to take out. And you and your Phantom Thieves did it instead."
"I didn't know," Ren wheezed. "There was no way we could have–"
"It doesn't matter ." Akechi dug his heel deeper into Ren's chest, and he cried out. "I'm not interested in explanations or hypotheticals. I really wish it hadn't happened this way, Amamiya. But I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to take control of Yongen. And then this can all be over." He raised his gun.
"It can all be over?" Ren gasped. Not yet, Futaba, please not yet. "After you take over Yongen, it can be over? What the hell does that mean?"
Akechi faltered. "Nothing. It doesn't mean anything."
Ren saw his chance. "You're not just here because of me," Ren said. "You could have killed me on any planet, any moon. But I've got the home-field advantage here. And you chose Yongen anyway. Why?"
"You don't know anything," Akechi snapped.
"The SIU," Ren said. "That's what this is about."
Akechi stepped back, taking his foot off Ren's chest. "How can you–"
"They control the prosecutor's office in Shibuya. Well, not officially, but they do, don't they? You're not just a renegade mercenary magistrate. You have people to answer to." Ren coughed. "Under their control, all of Shido's political opponents were prosecuted. And I'm using prosecuted as a euphemism, here."
"You don't know anything," Akechi whispered. "You don't know anything at all."
"How can you work for them?" Ren slowly got to his feet, his weapon still lying on the ground. "That office is Shido's legacy. And they want to expand their control here. They're using you, Akechi."
"You have no idea what I've been through," Akechi said, voice shaking. "You don't know the plans I have for them."
"People who oppose them keep disappearing," Ren said. "Sae Niijima– did you hear about her? She was forced off-world. Hasn't been heard from since."
"Of course I did. She was my mentor! And how the hell do you know–"
"Her sister came to me for help," Ren said.
Akechi looked shocked before he shook his head and laughed. "Makoto always had impossible ideas. Birds of a feather, you and–"
"They'll keep using you. They'll keep hurting people."
"I'm biding my time!"
"And how many more people have to die before your time comes?"
Akechi raised his gun again. "Shut up!"
Ren stepped closer. "You," he said sharply, "have backed yourself into a corner. You're in over your head. But I can help you. I don't want the prosecutor's office or the SIU to win. This is my home, and I won't let it be turned into some kind of police outpost. You don't have to be their puppet. We both have clout and firepower, just in different ways and in different circles. We can help each other."
Akechi was silent for a moment. "You're insane," he finally said. "Was this your plan all along? I could have killed you."
"Nah," Ren said. "You wouldn't have."
Akechi closed his eyes, as if overwhelmed.
"Hey," Ren tried, coming closer. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say. He didn't like the wounded look on Akechi's face.
Akechi opened his eyes. He looked tired. "I was always jealous of you," Akechi said. "You motherfucker."
Ren was silent.
"You don't know what you're getting into." Akechi spoke slowly. "I've helped them commandeer the police force on whole planets. If they find a way to consolidate that power–"
"You're a one-man police force, yourself," Ren said. "The easy part is putting that energy towards… better avenues."
Akechi laughed, a short laugh that could mean anything.
They stood there for a moment in silence.
"You know," Ren spoke up, "I meant it when I said you look nice. You show up like this to all your gunfights?"
"Only the ones I care about. You look…" Akechi surveyed Ren. "Fine."
"If I had known," Ren said. "If we had known about your history with Shido, we would have–"
"I know. I know you would have sought me out. You're so noble. Before I started to hate that about you, I quite liked it." Akechi looked worn. "I've made a lot of mistakes."
Ren swallowed. He had come here with a hope, a wish that hadn't seemed attainable. But now that he could see a new beginning in sight, there was no way he was going to give up. He didn't want to leave here until he had Akechi by his side, on his team. "Join me."
"You don't know what you're doing," Akechi said hollowly.
"I think I have a pretty good idea."
Akechi was silent for a long moment. His gaze fell on Ren's gun, still lying on the ground. Ren held his breath.
When Akechi finally spoke, his voice was quiet but assured. "I'll need to write up a contract for our alliance, of course."
Ren grinned. "Can I convince you to sweeten the deal, Mr. Magistrate?"
Akechi raised an eyebrow. "You are insane, aren't you? Save the flirting for when it's been more than ten minutes since I've tried to kill you."
"So I can flirt with you later?"
Akechi sighed and tapped at his transceiver. "I'm opening a channel and sending you the terms."
Ren reviewed the file. Wow, he would definitely need Futaba to help him work out the legalese. "Looks, uh, in order."
Akechi looked like he wasn't fooled. "You can review it and send it to me later."
"Great." Ren smiled. Then his expression changed as a realization dawned.
"What is it?" Akechi said warily.
Ren scratched his head. "I just… don't exactly know where to go from here. We need a lead, but finding one would take time, and I don't know how much of that we have–"
"I knew you didn't know what you were doing. Save it," Akechi interrupted. He smiled slightly. "I know where Sae Niijima is."
"What? How–"
"Like I said, she was my mentor. There are… people I still care about." Akechi hesitated. "I suppose I'm a little tired of being alone."
"You aren't," Ren said. "Not anymore."
Akechi cocked his head and considered him.
"You didn't always hate me," Ren said. "And I'm pretty partial to you right now. We could be great together, you know."
Akechi still looked weary. "I'm hoping I'm not making a mistake, Amamiya."
"I'll make your every moment with me worth your while." Ren grinned. "Now, how about you tell me how you like your drinks?"