Work Text:
Inaba really was in the middle of nowhere.
Ann hadn’t initially believed Ren when she had first surprised him with her train ticket and a promise to visit for the weekend. She hadn’t believed the light warning in his voice, let alone the unspoken implications of a quiet, sleepy hometown. Somewhere that rural surely couldn’t still exist in Japan. Her boyfriend’s beloved home had to have the basic staples, right? Movie theaters, department stores or cute little boutiques, coffee shops, and general hangout places?
Then the train kept stopping at each and every quiet, sparsely populated village, one after the other, and reality set in.
This commuter rail, with its equally empty luggage rack, was deserted. She had been the only one in her whole car, and the train– well, the faded seat cushions and the dingy lighting had seen better days. The fresh, sleek shine of Shibuya’s bullet line trains had faded into a distant memory.
Japan was a beautiful country. This, Ann knew logically from books and television specials, and more than a few photoshoots from nature photographers. Knowing, however, wasn’t the same as seeing, let alone breathing in that countryside air.
She was traveling straight into the heartlands, and like romantic cliches, Ren’s presence really would have to suffice.
Descending the train was like stepping into another world– an echo of the former Metaverse. An empty Mementos in the guise of Shibuya Station, though, was neater than Yasoinaba. The yellowed paint was peeling off the counters, and the linoleum floors were faded wherever sunlight touched. Even the foundation seemed to creak under her, or maybe she was just imagining it?
“I’m here,” she murmured to herself, with a small laugh as she clutched her duffel bag. “I’m actually here.”
Eyes on the prize. Remember just for whom she had endured three whole hours of the rolling train, let alone the transfers and the thinning crowd: remember the boyfriend. The wonderful, sweet, perfect boyfriend who happened to call this tired town his home.
Back in March, after all his probationary charges had been overturned, Ren had moved back to Inaba– and with him, so too had a piece of Ann’s soul.
This free weekend couldn’t have come soon enough. In just a few seconds, she would see Ren again, and the world would feel anew. She would feel complete, like–
“Ann!”
Like her heart was once again whole.
Ann beamed, looking towards the sound of his voice– at her wonderful, perfect boyfriend standing outside the station with a single red rose. His grin was as brilliant as the sun, and honestly, he looked a little taller. Did he have another growth spurt?
“Over here.” Ren waved at her, the rose gingerly held between his fingers. “Good to see you.”
Relief washed over Ann as she closed the distance between them and flung herself into his arms– “Yeah. I missed you so, so much.”
The grand tour of Inaba didn’t last very long.
Ren had brought his parents’ car to greet her (given that he finally got his license), and he pointed out all the major landmarks as they drove past.
They began with the Amagi Inn, an old, traditional ryokan that had been passed down through several generations, and a shrine where a mischievous kitsune spirit supposedly lived. Back home, Ren had been rather quiet, fading into the shadows and listening to others’ stories. Now, surrounded by fables and familiarity, his voice was loud and clear.
He was excited about these old, storied legends. His gestures were quick, almost frenzied, and his entire body seemed to bounce with new energy. Ann couldn’t stop grinning through the impromptu history lesson – and frankly, neither could he.
They passed through the Central Shopping District in eastern Inaba, where Ren promised to circle back for dinner, and continued onward.
There weren’t many cars on the road, Ann noticed, and even fewer traffic signals. For most of this ‘tour,’ they were the only car within miles.
Ren pointed out the absurd, too; the tumbleweeds that passed for entertainment, the giant Junes that stood in the center of town, and the telephone poles that gained national fame when two young women were murdered on it (above it? Ren didn’t know the details himself).
They also drove under an underpass with a Phantom Thieves graffitied logo, and Ann couldn’t help laughing at the sight. Granted, the illegible kanji surrounding it left much to be desired. The red and black spray paint had dripped down onto the grass below– no style, but a heck of a lot of substance.
“I think Ryuji’s version was better,” Ann remarked between giggles, struggling to rein it in. “Or at least easier to read.”
Though she couldn’t help thinking that Yusuke would be scandalized to see this. She could just picture their friend now, staggering back in horror at the sight and demanding to know who could’ve painted such a monstrosity.
“It has character,” Ren insisted, as if playing devil’s advocate.
Ann only rolled her eyes at him as she settled by his side, brushing her shoulder up against his. “Yeah, but there was a reason we always left the cards up to Yusuke. I personally suck at art, and well, I don’t know about you, but… I don’t think the rest of us could do any better.”
A small, sheepish laugh escaped Ren’s lips.
Ann sat up in sudden realization– “No.”
“Maybe?” His smile was too much like the Cheshire Cat’s– that wide open, yet guarded, smirk confirmed any lingering suspicions. “I guess we’ll never know.”
Ann could shake her head in fond exasperation. “It hasn’t even been half a year and you’re already committing crimes again?”
His grumpy, stone-faced silence, once again, left so very little to her imagination.
As promised, Ren circled back to a Chinese diner in the Central Shopping District. During the day, Ann imagined the sidewalks were filled with hundreds of people going about their lives; students getting takeout, adults perusing businesses, and everything in-between.
At night, little existed besides Ren’s borrowed car. The street lamps flickered as they drove past, and a few shopkeepers were sweeping lonely entrances. Various storefronts were boarded up with long metal shutters and faded ‘out of business’ signs.
The car was parked before a Chinese diner. Ren climbed out and held the passenger door open for her.
He bowed, with a grand gesture reminiscent of their thieving days. “Ladies first.”
“You really didn’t have to,” she insisted, even as she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks.
Ren gave her a smug smile as he rested an arm across the top of the door. “But I wanted to.”
“Jeez,” she sighed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of her embarrassment. “You’re such a sap sometimes, you know?”
“So are you.”
She couldn’t find the heart to argue, so she wrinkled her nose at him, right before reaching to wrap her arm around his own.
“Makes the time we spend together that much more special,” she had to admit, leaning into his side.
The diner was bigger than Ann had expected, but then again, Inaba had the luxury of wide, open space. The loud clang of silverware greeted them as they walked inside, along with noisy laughter and the pleasant, if strong, smell of savory spices. A few customers were waiting to one side for takeout orders. They glanced up at Ann, then back at Ren with understanding, if also curious, smiles.
The waiter also greeted Ren with a cocky, knowing expression, and Ann couldn’t help giggling into her boyfriend’s shoulder as they were seated in a discreet corner in the back.
She was used to people staring at her hair; that was truly nothing new. She was used to people recognizing her from photoshoots and the occasional modeling ad; that, too, was a side effect of her chosen career. She couldn’t say, however, that she would ever get used to the idea of everyone knowing her first and foremost as Ren’s girlfriend.
“Hey, that reminds me,” Ann paused, glancing at a lucky cat statue, “Where’s Morgana? I was hoping he would greet me today too.”
Ren’s cheeks turned a faint shade of red as he rested his forearms on the table. “He’ll see us when we get home. Said he wanted to give us space.”
“What?” Ann blinked. “But we have plenty of space. He could’ve said hello way earlier.”
Then Ren leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers, right in the middle of an empty diner, and Morgana’s reasons clicked into place.
“Oh,” was all Ann could say as she pulled back from his affection.
She vowed, then and there, to bring Morgana the most expensive fish dish she could find on the menu.
Sure, she had smuggled in some cuts of fatty tuna in a separate container filled with ice packs, but nothing beat restaurant-style Chinese food! Nothing would ever be too good for her new favorite cat in the entire universe!
With far too much smug, cocky satisfaction, Ren almost crowed, “You were saying?”
Ann didn’t even know why she was surprised. Instead of conceding to her boyfriend’s (well-warranted) arrogance, she scooted forward and stole a kiss of her own.
The old Ann wouldn’t have dared to display such proud, defiant affection in public – but the current Ann wanted the entire world (the pervasive, loud silence in a diner; the entire population of Inaba, Japan) to know that Ren was hers and hers alone.
“I don’t know,” she teased, mirroring his smug, confident crossed legs and folded arms. “You might have to remind me a few more times first.”
After a true feast filled with overflowing beef noodle bowls and far too many dumplings, Ann and Ren drove back to his childhood home in relative silence.
Only the soft jazz music in the background and the purr of the engine reminded Ann of where she was—the middle of absolutely nowhere, with only her boyfriend and a canopy of twinkling stars for company.
She had never seen such wonder with her own two eyes. Okumura’s Palace, in all its cognitive outer space glory and gleaming space skyscrapers, had nothing on the Inaba skyline.
The stars didn’t waver; they didn’t fade. They were constant, ever shimmering, even as Ren’s headlights thinned them from view.
Ann rolled down the window to better peer up at them. She would’ve tried to capture it all on camera, but she had a sneaky feeling the light wouldn’t show.
Ren only took one look at her before parking on the side of the road. He too mirrored her gaze, leaning back to further look up at the sky.
His voice broke her awed silence. “Wanna take a walk?”
Ann nodded. “It’s not too late, right?”
“No way.” A slow, amused smile crossed Ren’s face. “Haven’t you noticed by now? Around here, time’s a mere suggestion.”
Even in the dark with their phone cameras as flashlights, Inaba’s riverbeds and fields were easy to navigate. Ren wove through the faded path with an effortless, almost practiced ease (and really, Ann could imagine him loafing around here for hours).
Ann seized his hand, intertwining her fingers in his as they walked along the river’s edge.
At the very end, where the river seemed to meet the edge of town, Ren sat down, motioning for Ann to follow. Ann gently eased into his lap as she leaned back into Ren’s arms, wrapping herself in his warmth as they counted the stars.
“I can’t believe you get to see this every night,” she murmured, her gaze still stuck on the twinkling lights above.
Ren nodded, a soft hum escaping his lips.
Swallowing a breath, Ann dared to whisper, “It’s incredible.”
From their vantage point, the stars could have swallowed them whole with their light. The constellations had never seemed so clear before – not in Finland, not in any stretch of the U.S., and certainly not in Tokyo. Neon lights and urban jungles couldn’t compete with natural beauty and wonder illuminating the water and fields before them.
She couldn’t help wondering, “Did you ever miss them?”
“Miss what, exactly?”
“The stars. Looking out your window and seeing all of this, right outside your door, as if it’s a regular, everyday kind of thing.”
“Well…” Ren had to fight back a laugh, “It kind of is.”
Ann elbowed him. “Hey!”
“I only missed them in the beginning.” Ren admitted after a moment of easy silence, leaning forward and resting his head in the crook of her neck.
“Before you met us, you mean.”
“Yeah.” His voice grew fond, almost wistful. “Before the Phantom Thieves.”
Those days felt like a whole another lifetime now. Carmen and Arsene resided in their hearts still, supposedly. Ann had long since been unable to feel their presence. Her inner intuition and instincts were all that remained of her thievery—or perhaps that’s all Carmen ever was. Raw, passionate strength given human form.
“You know,” Ann said, squinting up at a particular cluster of stars, “That constellation over there almost looks like our logo. Or your illegal version of it, anyway.”
Ren’s laugh was soft. “Where?”
“Up there, silly. Look northwest, right past the clouds and…” She stretched out her free hand towards the stars, tracing the path of a top hat with her index finger.
No such constellation existed in the real world. Ann couldn't imagine anyone charting the stars and deciding then and there that one depicted a top hat and mask. Yet Ren was following her gaze as if she crafted those lines herself, and her guiding hand set those constellations into collective memory.
His laugh was confident and warm– so much warmer than the synthetic tones through her phone, and the poor connection on their video chats. The weight of his head, the constant beat of his heart, and even the itchiness of his clothes were all tangible reminders of his presence. In this moment, he was really, truly here.
Ren’s knuckles brushed up against her palm as he too traced the night sky. Their outstretched arms were one, if only for this moment.
“That one’s Tokyo,” he murmured, his voice tickling her ear, “and that one’s Inaba.”
“A straight line?”
Her train connections would have said otherwise; this journey had been far more arduous than Ren was daring to suggest.
“I was thinking more, they’re closer than they think.”
Just like them, she supposed.
Ann pulled both of Ren’s arms around her in a warm, tight reverse embrace as she continued to gaze up at the stars.
Inaba may be in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely none of the usual gathering hubs or city staples. No movie theaters. No coffee shops (the tragedy). No real pleasures of city life. No adherence to time, and worst of all, no comforts that she had previously taken for granted.
Weird part was– she didn’t miss any of those.
Not when she was right in the middle of somewhere special, with an ever-beating heart and a constellation that would never fade into morning.