Chapter Text
The attic above Leblanc is a commotion of squeals, laughter, and flailing limbs—the last element courtesy of Futaba, who is practically vibrating after the astonishing number of energy drinks she’d packed away into her tiny frame.
Ann is sprawled out stomach-first on the floor, flipping through a fashion magazine she’d brought with her and chirping out suggestions to the others: “Hey, Haru, this pastel spring look would suit you perfectly!" or “Ren, check out the makeup on this model! You should let me wing your eyeliner like this.”
Haru, meanwhile, is perched delicately on Ren’s couch, inspecting the light green polish Ann has just applied to her fingernails with a warm smile. Beside her, Makoto still holds herself a bit awkwardly, though she is not quite as stiff as when the night had first begun. Ren suspects that the student council president had prepped conversation starters hours in advance, as evidenced by the immediate questioning she’d begun once the girls were comfortably settled into Ren’s room. “So… how was everyone’s trip here?” she’d asked, clasping her hands a little too tightly in her lap to seem nonchalant. “The trains seemed less crowded than usual.”
Makoto’s question had quickly been knocked out of the way by Futaba’s excited ooh' s over some anime ad that had flashed across the TV, and then Ann had immediately launched into a probing of everyone’s secret crushes—game over for Makoto’s safely drawn plans.
Which was too bad for Ren, really, when the others had united in a shared curiosity over her very interesting relationship with a certain Goro Akechi.
It wasn’t the first time they’d pumped her for details, and she doubted it was the last time she’d dodge their questions, either.
The sleepover had been Ann’s idea, unsurprisingly; she’d started a new chat log for just the girls of the group, begging to have a night all to themselves to “let loose, have fun, and talk about boys~!♥”
~The Phantom Babes~
Futaba: (╯°□°）╯
Futaba: ヽ(°□°ヽ)
Futaba: ＼( °□° )／
Futaba: heteronormativity! aghh! my eyes burn!!
Ann: what? no! i wasn’t just assuming—
Ann: i mean, it doesn’t have to just be boys!!!
Haru: So you would like us to meet up and… discuss our love interests, Ann?
Ann: well, yeah! isn’t that what girl friends are supposed to do?
Ann: we could have a sleepover! eat food, talk about cute PEOPLE.
Makoto: I suppose… these types of conversations are a good indicator of close friendships. But where would we host such an event?
Futaba: …
Futaba: has anyone here ever actually been to a sleepover?
Ren smiles at the memory of how they’d floundered to come up with a collective plan. Despite being so different from one another (and from completely different backgrounds), they’d all been pretty awkward trying to organize whatever constituted as a “real girl’s night.” She herself couldn’t remember the last sleepover she’d been to—maybe when she was eight?
Morgana had even been kind enough to volunteer staying with Ryuji for the night (well—“volunteer” was a generous word to call it. In truth, he’d huffed and pouted for days after Ren had mentioned the sleepover idea, until finally claiming that he would valiantly make himself scarce, like a true gentleman ).
Ren had kept her phone turned all the way up, just in case Ryuji suddenly called to make a death threat on their feline-shaped friend.
“Ohmigosh!” Ann exclaims, snatching at her magazine with a flurry of rustling pages. “Listen to this! A clothed nude photo can actually rile your partner up more effectively than sending off a picture in your birthday suit, since the promise of ripping off some teasing layers—”
“A-Ann!” Makoto interrupts the blonde’s reading, cheeks already flushing with color. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s a boudoir guide!” Ann waves the open spread in her hand around, as if that will make them magically understand. “Tips on how to take sexy pictures!” She sees the other girls exchange bewildered glances at each other and sighs theatrically. “Seriously, isn’t taking sexy pics, like, a staple of our culture?”
“W-what culture is that?" Makoto shoots back.
Haru nods serenely, though her face, too, is coated by a slight blush. “I’ve heard girls in my classes talk about the responses they’ve received to such… erm, images.”
“Ann, are you bringing this up for a specific reason?” Ren asks, waggling her eyebrows.
“Whoa, scandalous!” Futaba leers from the bed, dropping her Featherman figure in lieu of seizing on a new target. “A whole vault of lewdie nudies? I never would have guessed!”
Ann squeaks in response, her face reddening to match the hue of her Metaverse outfit. “N-no way! ...Not a whole vault…”
That, of course, creates a whole new racket as they react to Ann’s admission. Ren is suddenly, intensely grateful that Sojiro had gone home a couple of hours prior; she really doesn’t want to imagine the lecture he’d storm up to impart if he could hear them now.
“-and it's totally natural to want to feel confident in your own skin!” Ann finishes arguing, pointing her finger at each girl in turn as she talks. “In fact, it’s empowering!”
“What could be so empowering about breaking the law?” Makoto murmurs. When the others turn to give her significant stares, she blanches, immediately backtracking. “I-I mean, not in the Phantom Thief way... but there really are all kinds of issues with circulating these types of photos, you know!”
“Who said anything about circulating?” Ann says. “It could be something you do just for yourself, too!”
She retrieves the forgotten magazine with a flourish and begins again to read aloud from the article. “Don a loose cardigan, jacket, or some other type of casual outerwear and let it slip loosely off of one shoulder while you angle your-”
“Like this?” Haru asks, surprising everyone as she unzips her jacket and copies Ann’s instructions, letting the left arm slump ungracefully down to her bicep.
“Hm…” is all Ren offers.
“Looks like you’re going to get a shot from the doc,” Futaba snickers.
Ann shakes her head. “No, no, you’ve gotta feel confident, otherwise it just looks… well…”
“Ah.” Haru actually looks disappointed, slowly pulling the zipper back up and shuffling her sleeve into place. “I suppose I didn’t have the right attitude for a seduction.”
That startles a genuine laugh from Ren, the sound of it swallowed up by the other girls joining in. They tease at the conversation for a bit longer before changing into their pajamas and eventually—after much more whispering and jeering—drifting off to sleep.
The next day, Ren has a crick in her neck she just can’t seem to stretch out.
She’d voluntarily taken the floor as her resting place last night, along with Ann, though she’d made sure her friend had a pallet and a thicker blanket. Haru occupied the couch, while Makoto had, apologetically, claimed Ren’s modest bed.
They’d each offered Ren a little more comfort, whether an additional pillow or cover, but Ren had waved them off. “I’ve used my bag as a headrest before,” she’d reassured them. “It’s really no biggie.”
A night’s worth of sleep, however, hadn’t been nearly as comfortable as the quick little nap she’d judged that assumption off of.
Her friends had gone home after a curry breakfast, and Morgana had shown up even earlier, extra grouchy from the time spent with Ryuji. Luckily, the presence of the other girls had helped calm him down—Haru in particular had been of great assistance, gently stroking Morgana’s back and easing his complaints with her sweet voice.
Now, the not-cat is resting upstairs, and Ren is catching her breath in the cafe’s bathroom.
She’d just finished mopping the store and isn’t sure what to do with herself now, stuck in that strange in-between of restlessness and sleep deprivation that makes a person feel downright antsy. She’s already wiped down the counters and restocked the coffee shelves, but it’s proving to be an especially slow day; only two customers had wandered in so far, the elderly regulars who like to sit and chat over their single cups (a habit that, Ren has noticed, drives Sojiro up the wall).
The cafe owner himself had run out for some errands, muttering about the state of small businesses these days and how “people just don’t appreciate quality.” That left Ren to man the fort alone, not that she minds. She sort of wishes customers would walk in, just to give her something to do and dispel the notion of going upstairs to collapse into her bed.
Last night had been fun, but she’s tired. Besides Morgana, who hardly counts in these types of scenarios, Ren isn’t used to socializing for long periods of time.
It doesn’t really help that the topic of sexy pictures is somehow still raging on.
~The Phantom Babes~
Haru: I was thinking about all the advice you gave last night, Ann, and I decided to practice a bit more with aesthetic techniques.
Makoto: Haru, you don’t mean-!?
Haru: Yes… I took what one might call, a sexy photo!
Futaba: WHOA!!
Ann: OMG! wait, yu really did?
Haru: I believe so? I tried my best, at least.
Haru: I don’t know that I did a good job, but it certainly was fun!
Ann: !!!! OMGOMG Haruuuu!
Makoto: You’re not planning to send that photo to anyone, are you?
Haru: Oh no, I just took it for myself, as Ann suggested.
Haru: To tell the truth, though, I’ve been wondering what sort of feedback the picture would warrant. Would it be alright to share the photo here, with you all?
Her friends—they just kept on finding new ways to surprise her. Ren blinks down at her phone in shock, watching as messages pour in faster than she can respond.
Haru: I understand if that is an uncomfortable proposal. Please feel free to say no
Ann: i’m down, duh of course!
Futaba: (ಠ_ಠ)
Futaba: jk idc ~(˘▾˘~)
Futaba: kinda hard to believe u did that & seeing is believing!
Makoto: I’m only uncomfortable at the prospect of this image being out of your control, Haru…
Makoto: But I suppose we do have Futaba on our side to prevent any unwanted access and distribution...
Futaba: mweh heh heh!
Futaba: i’ll take down any threat to our precious nubile forms!!
Makoto: Somehow, that response does not reassure me.
Ann: AHAHA so not the way I thought we’d be using our hacker! but I won’t complain ^_^
Haru: Ren?
Ren: sorry, I’ve been doing chores
Ren: no objections here
Makoto: We all must promise to keep such things 100% secret, of course. This stays solely between the four of us and cannot leave the group chat.
Ann: definitely!!
Ren: agreed.
Futaba: aye aye, captain!
Haru: I am truly lucky to have such great friends. Thank you for being so understanding!
Futaba: we are pretty great, huh?
Ann: yeah but enough teasing, i wanna see !!
Haru’s photo comes through a few seconds later as a media file, and in the few seconds it takes to download, Ren finds herself uncharacteristically nervous at the thought of seeing one of her friends in the nude.
Which is… incredibly stupid, right? Don’t teenage girls do these types of things with one another all the time?
Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a big deal if she’d had previous experience talking to other girls like this, but most of her friendships before the Tokyo move had been superficial and unfulfilling. Hardly friendships at all.
Oh, man. What if she, the leader of the Phantom Thieves, can’t even look one of her teammates in the face without feeling awkward because of a single harmless message? That would be—
The image pops up before Ren can have second thoughts and swipe away. Once again, she blinks down at her phone.
Whatever she’d expected… this is not it.
Haru seems to have taken the photo while standing at a window, one that overlooks the morning sky. She’s dressed in the day clothes she’d left the cafe in, only her jacket is left open to bunch around her waist. It… looks like she might have removed her skirt, but… her top is so long that it covers anything that might have given the photo a more suggestive vibe. Underneath, her tights hide any inch of skin that might have otherwise been visible.
All in all, it’s an incredibly tame picture. For a brief, head-spinning moment, Ren isn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.
~Phantom Babes~
Ann: wow, Haru, u look really pretty in that lighting
Ann: ambiance totally on point
Makoto: It is indeed a nice picture of the sky… I must admit, this isn’t quite what I had in mind when you said ‘sexy photo’
Futaba: yeh it’s totally tame!!
Futaba: but uh cute!
Ann: i mean, the head tilt and doe-eyed look is a nice touch
Ren: and looking straight into the camera, too.
Ren: adds a sense of boldness
Haru: Thank you! I wanted to try redefining what a sensual picture might look like, in my own way.
Haru: I’m not sure I accomplished this, but like I said, it was fun to try.
Haru: Most of all, I appreciate you all not making fun of me… I was a bit embarrassed
Makoto: There is nothing to be embarrassed of, Haru.
Makoto: Thank you for trusting us with something like this.
Futaba: everyone starts out a noob its ok Haru!
Ren: it’s cool that you took a chance on something new
Ann: right!! that’s the whole point! didn’t you feel kinda powerful when you took that pic?
Haru: As a matter of fact, I did!
Haru: But I still feel as if the true essence of a ‘sexy photo’ is eluding me
Futaba: u could always look it up, butttttt…
Futaba: (ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻
Makoto: Uh… what is that supposed to be, Futaba?
Ann: i think she’s… flipping over a table?
Ren: the look of someone who’s seen too much
Futaba: ding ding ding!
Futaba: winner winner chicken dinner!
Makoto: It’s true that the Internet can be a dangerous place, especially if you don’t know what it is exactly that you’re searching for.
Ann: well, how ’bout this! I could share my own photo?
Ann: it’s only fair since Haru trusted us enough to share hers!
Ren is still standing in the bathroom, and with the way this text conversation is going, she figures she’s going to remain standing here for quite a while. The last thing she wants is for Morgana to sneak downstairs while she’s not looking and accidentally see something he isn’t supposed to!
She can clearly hear the door chime from in here, too. Nothing but uninterrupted silence. She’s in the clear.
After another round of hush-hush agreements and consent, a new media file bounces through Ren’s chat box. This time, she doesn’t hesitate to click it, a smile blooming across her face.
Why is this... so fun?
Ann’s picture is—well. It’s gorgeous. Almost unfairly so, and Ren isn’t usually the type to draw comparisons between herself and other girls. The blonde has her hair down for the shot, cascading in long waves down her back; she’s sitting facing the camera (had she put the phone on a timer?) with an air of total confidence, even though she’s only clothed in sparkly blue lingerie and a sheer kimono that’s draped around her shoulders, just barely falling over the cups of her bra. Her lower half is mostly hidden by the way she’s folded her legs, posing in a way that looks effortless and casual. Ann has her model face on in the picture, too: eyes focused, lips shining with gloss.
She might as well have been the inspiration for the article they’d joked about last night.
~Phantom Babes~
Futaba: HOoooly cheese the moniez i could make from selling this pic!!!
Futaba: full inventory! top shelf sashimi for days!
Makoto: FUTABA don’t you dare!
Futaba: course not! but dang Ann u really are a model! crazyyyy
Ann: what do u mean ‘crazy’?!
Haru: It’s true! You look every bit the empowered, sensual woman the article described! It’s very inspiring.
Ann: thanks, Haru!! (✿◠‿◠)
Makoto: I still can’t say I’m on board with taking these kinds of pictures, but… you really do look beautiful, Ann.
Ann: awww, Makoto!
Futaba: … bewbs
Ren: very eloquent, Futaba
Makoto: indeed…
Ren: so Ann, you said ‘yes’ to Yusuke’s nude modeling proposal after all?
Ren snickers to herself as her friend shoots message after message of explicit denial in response to the teasing. She must have touched a sorer nerve then she thought, because soon enough, Ann is coming straight after her.
~Phantom Babes~
Ann: anyway, i thought our fearless leader did everything first
Ann: so… wheres YOUR sexy pic Ren?? huh?
Ann: ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )
Futaba: ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )
Ann: ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )
Futaba: ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )
Makoto: Oh, dear.
Haru: ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )
Makoto: Haru, not you, too!
Futaba: join the dark side, Makoto
Makoto: Absolutely not.
Ren: can’t talk. busy working
Futaba: lies!!! the cafe is dead in the water rn!!
Ann: Ren’s too cool for us, girls
Ann: she’d NEVER do something fun ;) like take a revealing pic of her collarbone ;)
Makoto: Peer pressure?!
Futaba: this just in folks, Ann Takamaki has a collarbone fetish
Ann: no i DO NOT!!!!
Ren is laughing, typing a snarky response out when a notification comes up on her screen and redirects her attention.
Akechi: Good morning, Ren. This may be an odd question, but did I happen to leave behind my red pen at the cafe the other day?
Akechi: It might seem trivial, but that’s the best pen I have in my arsenal, and my work is suffering without it.
Dramatic, Ren thinks, smiling wryly to herself.
Maybe an excuse to text her? Or was that flattery on her part?
Ren: so why don’t you just go buy more of these incredible pens?
Akechi: That’s the issue, isn’t it? I can’t seem to recall where I got it from originally, and there’s no brand name or logo on it that I can remember.
Ren: I’ll look for your key item in just a moment, detective
Akechi: Key item? Isn’t that some sort of video game reference? Sakura said something like that the other day.
Ann’s name shoots across the top of Ren’s phone then, a side note that she’s only teasing and doesn’t expect Ren to participate if she really doesn’t want to.
Who said she doesn’t want to?
It may be the lack of sleep she got last night, or the good-natured goading in the group chat, but the idea of shutting Ann up with a surprising picture does have a certain appeal.
And anyways—it’s not like Ren is just a student, or just a thief, or just a reliable leader with supposed nerves of steel.
She’s also a girl who remembers sneaking looks into her mother’s racy magazines when she was younger, studying the half-naked women plastered on the glossy pages and trying to commit to memory what makes a person desirable.
Why not? There’s no one even here today.
And rushing into risky decisions just feels so good.
Before she can ponder the matter further, Ren slides her phone onto the bathroom counter and starts to rearrange her clothing—drops her jacket to the floor (it’s sparkling clean, after all), pops open all the buttons on her shirt and pries it open. Takes a moment to survey her reflection.
Her bra is decent enough, right? Plain and white and—nope. She unclasps the back hook, wiggles out of it from underneath her loose top and lets that fall too.
Her shirt gapes open to reveal her cleavage and just a bit— whoops, Ren adjusts the fabric to cover her nipple—just a bit of sideboob, the curves beckoning precariously from their hiding spot.
Carefully, she sets her glasses next to her phone.
Something’s missing. Ren turns slightly to the side and, after a moment of deliberation, tugs down on her jeans to bare her left hip bone, the side closest to the mirror. The new space between her shirt hem and pants reveals the flat slope of her lower stomach.
As an afterthought, she hooks a finger through one of the black straps of her underwear and positions it to be just barely visible above her jeans.
Not too bad. Didn’t even take long.
She’d pulled her hair back earlier to clean; now, Ren lets it fall and doesn’t fix the tousled curls that fan out wildly around her shoulders. Carefully, so as not to disrupt the image she’s created, she lifts up her phone, looks at the image on her screen, and hears the shutter sound of her camera go off.
A huff of laughter when she looks at the picture.
It seems silly now that the planning and posing part is behind her. Looking at this photo of her, frozen in time, reminds her a little of trying on her mother’s high heels as a child and clomping around the house in them. A bit of play, make-believe.
Though maybe she’s just being self-critical. It’s herself she’s looking at, after all.
Maybe her friends would—
Embarrassingly, the idea of sending this to the “Phantom Babes” group chat makes her stomach dive unpleasantly. How did Haru and Ann have the guts to just toss their own pictures out like that?
Maybe if it was just Ann who saw, and who could give her constructive feedback—like they were training their hearts—
Ren doesn’t mind that idea so much. Ann’s used to being around undressed women, being a model and all. And, with the way she’s still taunting Ren through texts, Ren figures it’s as good an excuse as any to hear back on her first “boudoir” attempt. If it could even be called that.
Ren is in the middle of pulling up her most recent messages when the door chime goes off, loud and startling, and she has to scramble to catch her phone from shattering on the hard floor.
“-’t believe I had to run all over Yongen-Jaya for a single damn—hey, kid? Where are you?”
“I-in the bathroom, Boss!” Oh, geez. Fuck. Her face is flaming hot. “Be right out!”
Holy shit, what timing. Hands trembling, Ren shoots off the picture as fast as she possibly can, fingers flying across the screen to add: “take this and shut up already.”
Ann should find it funny.
Over the course of the next half hour, Ren feels her phone vibrating almost nonstop in her jeans pocket. She refuses to check it, though, since Sojiro has only just returned.
In the middle of an explanation about Cuban Crystal Mountain beans, Sojiro abruptly breaks off. “Hey, shouldn’t you answer that?” he asks, arching an impressive brow at Ren (she’d never admit it, but it’s Sojiro who inspired her to practice making the same expression in front of the mirror).
“It’s probably just my friends goofing around,” Ren shrugs, but she slips out her phone all the same when Sojiro has turned his back to her.
Yep. A ton of messages in varying group chats—the Phantom Babes, the regular old Phantom Thieves’ log, and, of course, the extra-extra-secret anti-Akechi PT chat.
It always makes her sad, to remember that such a thing needs to exist.
Thoughts for another time.
Ren is surprised to see that Ann hasn’t private messaged her back, considering she had—
Huh. Akechi has sent more, though. He doesn’t usually spam her with—
Akechi: If my earlier question annoyed you, Ren, you could have simply told me that.
Akechi: Although, I’m curious. Do you typically use suggestive photos as a means to incite your friends into doing what you want?
Wha—!?
Ren’s mouth drops open even before she scrolls back up to check—
Oh.
Oh my God.
And there it is—the picture. Sitting right there.
In her’s and Goro- FREAKING- Akechi’s chat history.
Goro.
Akechi.
Opened.
Read.
Her thoughts have short-circuited, so Ren replies the only way she can at the moment.
Ren: ALSKJEDOPSKLDFJKL
Ren: HOLYALFLG
Ren: HOLY shit wiat
“Sojiro,” she speaks aloud, channeling her inner- everything to ensure her voice doesn’t waver. “Can I take a quick walk? I think Makoto’s about to call me to discuss something important.”
Sojiro lets out a long hmmm, staring her down until she feels a cold sweat forming on her forehead. To her immense relief, he waves a hand, letting loose an easy smile. “Sure thing, kid, just don’t be gone too long—might need you with all these rambunctious customers around, eh?”
Ren offers him a weak chuckle before slipping out of the cafe, heart thundering in her chest. She grasps her phone with both hands, holding it tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her thoughts are still a monotonous chorus of Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygo —
Akechi has already responded.
Akechi: I suppose you’ve had a misfire, then?
Akechi: Please do be more careful in the future when sending such... intimate content.
Ren: Akechi i am so, so sorry
Ren: i really didnt mena to send this to you and i woudltn
Ren: i wouldnt send you something unsolicited i hope you know tat
Akechi: Typos.
Is he serious?! She is freaking out and he just—
Ren stops walking (she’d been marching down the street blindly, totally absorbed into her phone screen) and takes a deep, deep breath.
Ren: I apologize
Ren: not for the typos, for the picture
Even with the initial shock ebbing, Ren’s heartbeat still echoes in her ears. How incredibly careless of her. It’s one thing to receive a photo of someone like that, unasked for—but what if he had been at work? At school, even? His reputation—what if someone had—
Akechi: It’s alright, Ren. I was only teasing you.
Akechi: Though I do hope this incident will prevent any future accidents, yes?
So he—isn’t disgusted with her now, right?
That thought, and the one that follows, makes Ren release a shaky breath of laugher—more a small puff of air, a little tension released.
He’s currently carrying out an intricate plan to murder her, and here she is, worried about his personal opinion on her character.
Well, it’s not like it’s the first time she's marveled at that particular realization.
Akechi: I hope the person that you initially intended to send this to won’t be upset about the, ah, additional eyes that saw it.
A shiver runs down Ren’s spine, despite the pleasantly warm air.
Why did he have to word it like that? Drawing attention to his eyes on her—
Stop it, she tells herself.
Ren: I highly doubt that. It was more a fluke test than anything.
Akechi: ?
Ren: long story…
She should ask him to delete the image now, right? That seems like the appropriate next action. Somehow, the thought fills her with fresh embarrassment—like she was gifting him something just to yank it back.
Wait—gifting? Did Akechi think of her picture as a gift?
No way.
But why isn’t he making the offer to delete it? Now that she thinks about it, it seems in line with his gentlemanly character to assure her of its nonexistence right away.
And yet…
Akechi: An interesting one, I’m sure, if that photo is anything to go off by.
Akechi: I have to make sure of something, though, and I hope you’ll forgive me for asking… however…
Ren watches as Akechi types, anxiety spiking the longer the bubbles move about on screen. She hisses a curse under her breath when they disappear, only to pop up again a moment later, like he can’t decide how to word what he wants to say.
What did he want to say?
Akechi: Ren, you’re not being blackmailed for lewd photos, are you?
Wh—
Blackmailed?
Ren stares down at her screen for a few beats, and then for another, before releasing a startled burst of laughter. Nearby, the mailman pauses in completing his rounds and gives her a lingering, baffled stare before moving on.
Ren: uh, no???
Ren: why would you assume something like that?
Akechi: ‘take this and shut up already'
Akechi: Your accompanying message provided an ambiguous context to the nature of the exchange.
Akechi: I… apologize if my deduction was incorrect.
Oof. She’s really dug herself into a hole with this one, hasn’t she?
She wonders if she should just be honest with the detective, tell him about the game she and her friends have been playing since reading that stupid article. It isn’t like he would track down the images she spoke of to try and hurt the other Phantom Thieves… right?
Probably not, but now that she’s thinking about it, better safe than sorry. She’ll prod Futaba into adding an extra layer of safety to that group chat if possible. It’s one thing to put herself at risk, another to endanger the futures of the other girls.
Ren: the reasoning is super embarrassing
Akechi: Oh?
Ren: i was sending it to Ann
Ren: for feedback
Ren: a totally platonic thing
Oh god, and she’d already shot off that last text. This day really can’t get any worse, can it? Ren wonders if she can find a nice little manhole to slip into and never return from.
Ren: in response to a conversation we’d had earlier
Alright, Ren, that’s enough. You’re cut off.
Akechi isn’t even responding anymore, just reading the messages she keeps sending in quick succession.
Granted, she isn’t giving him much opportunity to reply.
Akechi: Huh.
Akechi: I’m still not sure I understand, but I’m relieved.
Relieved?
That she wasn’t being blackmailed, she figures.
Akechi: Anyways, don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.
Ren: well it was that or coffee grounds in your drinks for the rest of your days, so
Akechi: Or not looking for my pen, like I asked so nicely earlier? :)
Ah, this is much more familiar territory. And look—he’s even allowed the rare use of emojis, perhaps to put her at ease.
They assume a comfortable banter while Ren begins the walk back to Leblanc, much calmer than how she’d left it. The embarrassment from the whole debacle is still present, but no longer crushing her where she stands; Ren can actually breathe again.
Still—she notices he never did offer to delete the picture.
She could ask, but…
A lopsided smile pulls at her face. No. She doesn’t think she will.