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The further the Phantom Thieves made it through Maruki’s palace, the more difficult infiltration seemed to be. Ren was fortunate to have Sumire and Akechi by his side. Though Sumire was new to the team, she was quick to learn, and her skills as a gymnast made her incredibly powerful. Akechi, meanwhile, seemed even stronger now that he had dropped his façade. Despite having more allies on his side, even Ren was starting to grow exhausted. The little moments of reprieve he often spent with the Thieves after a hard day’s work were becoming more and more of a necessity. They had made it this far; he couldn’t afford to run out of steam now.
Fortunately, his friends made for a welcome distraction. Sumire and Akechi decided to join him at Leblanc for the night. Akechi insisted on simply wanting some of Sojiro’s coffee, and Ren fought back a smirk. Even Sumire giggled at his comment; she was catching on quick. She tried to get Akechi to sit with her and Ren in one of the booths, though he, obstinate as ever, remained at the counter, idly chatting with Sojiro (who had given Ren a handful of inquisitive looks).
Just as Ren had gotten accustomed to this arrangement, Sojiro said, “Snow, huh? Weird, I don’t remember them ever saying anything about snow.”
Curious, Sumire glanced outside, watching the snow fall through the gap in between the curtains in awe.
"A little snow never hurt anyone. I'll be taking my leave, then." Without even so much as a nod, Akechi opened the door, the bell jingling once as he exited—and again as he re-entered. Silently, he sat down at the counter, back turned to Ren and Sumire, oblivious to the two exchanging smiles.
The sudden, familiar blare of the breaking news tune guided Ren’s attention to the TV, and for a moment he braced for the worst, only to be greeted by a newscaster calmly speaking. “Looks like this snow’s a lot more intense than expected. All trains running through Tokyo are shutting down for the night, and the stations apologize for the inconvenience. I hope you all find a way to stay warm as you make your way home.”
Half-jokingly, Ren ventured, "Guess you two are stuck with me."
From behind the counter, Sojiro groaned. “Just don’t do anything stupid, alright?”
As much as Ren would have loved to argue that he and his friends were generally pretty well-behaved (all things considered), he was certain that, no matter how thankful Sojiro was, the Futaba debacle would still be fresh in his mind—
—until he remembered that never happened in this reality.
Go figure Sojiro would warn them, then. They were just a bunch of normal teenagers now, as if nothing had ever happened. At least he didn’t have to bear this knowledge alone.
Knowing better than to start anything with Sojiro, Ren merely nodded, with Akechi and Sumire mirroring him, their expressions awfully grim: something Sojiro evidently didn’t catch. Moments later Sojiro was out the door, flipping the “open” sign to “closed” and bracing himself in the chill. Ren didn’t spare him much thought as he took his place behind the counter, giving him a better view of his friends (asterisk with question marks beside Akechi’s name). Sumire, understandably, hadn’t exactly been herself lately, if that was even the right expression to use. She both was and wasn’t the girl he had befriended over the past several months. Remnants of the bright, cheery Kasumi remained, but they weren’t Sumire, and her desperation to return to normal was obvious.
What was perhaps even more obvious was just how uncomfortable Akechi was. He was fidgeting in his seat, mindlessly fiddling with the chess board, almost as if he were playing a match against a partner that didn’t exist just to hide away from the others. Ren almost dared to call it uncharacteristic of him, though it seemed that Akechi, like Sumire, was a book he was only about halfway through, if that.
Ren shot Akechi a look that said, Are you going to let this kill you?
Though he tried imagining Akechi's response, his mind was blank. This was something he would have to hear from Akechi himself, and he knew better than to expect such a proclamation tonight.
Unless he played his cards right, that is.
This kind of resistance was uncharted territory. He had grown so used to people confiding in him without a second thought. Now, he found himself face to face with the two people who fought the hardest to stay silent. Sumire was easing into things, at least, though it was clear there was a lot more on her mind than she was letting on.
“So,” Akechi said, “what cliché activities do you have planned for tonight?”
If making his friends dinner was cliché, then just call Ren a JRPG protagonist because he was about to make his best batch of curry yet—partially as an apology for what he was going to do after. As always, he gave Sumire an extra helping, which was gone in almost an instant. Ren sensed an obsession brewing, not that he minded. If anything, it would make it easier for him to look out for her, something she needed now more than ever.
Once Sumire finished, she met Ren with one of her now-rare smiles. “Thank you so much, Senpai. That was delicious!”
Unusually quiet, Akechi said nothing, instead burning holes through the window as he watched the snow fall.
So this was going to be the tone for the night.
Not if Ren had anything to say about it. It was time for a new mission to begin.
***
Sumire’s frustrated cries filled the attic as she aggressively button-mashed—well, about as aggressively as she could. Ren had lost track of how many times she had yelled, “No!” or “Wrong button!”, watching powerlessly as her character descended into the abyss—the result of an attack onslaught by Akechi more often than not. The difference between the two was stark; Akechi’s movements were so precise, Ren would almost buy that he had spent time with Futaba, though he knew that was no more than wishful thinking.
After Akechi had secured ten wins in a row, even Ren had to concede. He might have lost the battle, but he wasn’t giving up on the war.
“You know, Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi began, “you showed a remarkable amount of progress throughout those matches.”
Ren smiled. Check.
Sumire gaped at him. “Really?” Her voice had returned to its new, somber normal, however she sounded hopeful.
“Shouldn’t you all get some sleep?” Ren tensed at the sound of Morgana’s voice. He had been silent all night, curled up in a ball on Ren’s bed. “We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”
None of them could argue with that. Infiltration was always difficult, but Maruki’s palace was on a completely different scale from everything they had faced yet—sans, well, Yaldabaoth.
After a bit of deliberation involving Sumire politely refusing Ren’s kindness and Akechi being too stubborn for his own good, the trio managed a compromise on sleeping arrangements. Sumire and Morgana would share the bed, Ren would take the couch, and Akechi, as an alternative to sleeping in a booth downstairs, begrudgingly accepted Ren’s spare futon. As was the fate of any sleepover, however, this didn’t last very long.
“Akechi-senpai, are you awake?”
There was a long pause between Sumire’s question and Akechi’s answer. “What is it?”
Ren heard the shuffling of sheets, and a light thump. He could almost imagine Sumire joining Akechi on the floor, smiling sheepishly at him. “Sorry. I was trying to not bother Ren-senpai.”
“So I’m suitable to bother instead.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Sumire exclaimed, as loud as a whisper would allow her to, and she gasped. Ren didn’t move a muscle. Quieter, she said, “I just — he seems tired.”
“You know, he’s only pretending to be asleep.”
Well, that was the ace detective for you.
Cautiously, Sumire ventured, “Senpai?”
Red-handed, Ren pulled himself upward, stretching as he turned to face them. “Caught me.”
“That was hardly your best performance,” Akechi scoffed.
“Darn, I was shooting for an Oscar, too.”
Sumire’s laughter served as an invitation for him to join them, and together the three of them formed an oddly circular triangle. “Kasumi and I used to stay up late like this. I almost feel like a kid again.”
“This is a bit juvenile,” Akechi quipped.
“I think it’s nice. We probably wouldn’t have been able to do something like this if not for the snowstorm.” Sumire turned her head, gazing out the window inquisitively. Ren found himself looking, too; the snow still hadn’t let up. The view outside his window was almost a complete white-out, even in the darkness of the night. Fortunately, the few lights illuminating the alley gave them a decent view. Ren and Sumire’s eyes met, and Sumire said, “I know you didn’t really have a choice to let us stay, but thank you.”
Ren met her with a smile, though when she wasn’t looking, he could feel himself frowning in thought as he recalled the breaking news update. Sure, meteorologists weren’t infallible, but for there to not even be a mention of snow was the slightest bit strange, and for it to inconvenience so many people in spite of Maruki’s actualization—
“So, Yoshizawa-san, what did you and your sister typically do on nights like these?” Akechi’s words pulled Ren back into this very real unreality.
Sumire blushed and stared down at her lap. “Oh gosh… Probably not much we could do now. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”
“Surely telling us couldn’t be more unbearable than having your deepest secret exposed against your will.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Sumire said, “Well… We had a lot of stuffed animals, and we’d make up stories for them. And make pillow forts, too. And fail at playing truth or dare. Kasumi always picked dare. I always hid behind the truth.”
“Interesting,” Akechi said. “I would have thought it would be the other way around, though I could be getting ahead of myself.”
It would have been impossible to miss the way Sumire stiffened, and yet, she laughed. Back to Akechi, she asked innocuously, “What about you? What did you used to do as a kid?”
Torn between the impulse to protect Akechi from having to answer and the desire to hear what he would say, Ren let desire get the better of him and mellow out his impulsivity.
“I never got the chance to have a sleepover,” Akechi muttered without even a sneer. “It’s kind of hard to, when you don’t have a real home.”
“I’m so sorry.” Hurt shone in Sumire’s eyes. “I didn’t know.”
Akechi shrugged. To Ren, he asked, “Having fun over there?”
Lost, Sumire looked over at Ren, searching for an explanation. His answer came in the form of adjusting his glasses and nothing more.
“Ren Amamiya,” Akechi answered for him, “the saint who helps everyone with their problems, no matter what they are, yet never tells a soul about his own. I saw it in your eyes as soon as you heard the news report. This was the perfect opportunity for you to help us.”
It was hard, fighting the truth. Ren, again, was silent.
Sumire giggled softly. “Thank you, Senpai. You’ve done so much for me already, and I’m sure for Akechi-senpai, too.” Akechi looked away. “I don’t think I ever really noticed, because I’ve been so wrapped up in my own problems… but you really don’t talk about what’s bothering you, do you?”
With no choice left but to finally answer, Ren shook his head.
“You know you can confide in us, right?” Sumire asked. “Please, let us return the favor.”
“Really, I’m fine.”
Akechi raised his brows. “Oh, I’m sure you are, looking after essentially every single person you’ve ever met and shouldering their deepest burdens with them along with your own.”
“If there’s anything you’ve taught me, it’s that everyone needs someone to depend on, even if they think they don’t deserve it.” Reaching out for Ren’s hand, Sumire continued, “I don’t think it’s right to force you, so whenever you’re ready, please know you can tell us.”
Quietly, Ren replied, “Thank you. I promise I’ll tell you someday, but for now, I think we should take advantage of this situation and just relax.”
Sumire beamed. “Whatever works for you.”
“You’re too lenient, Yoshizawa-san.”
“I don’t want to force him!”
“You’re far nicer than I could ever be.”
As he sat and watched the two bicker, Ren felt, for the first time in what felt like a long while, a sense of certainty that everything was going to turn out okay.
***
It was funny, Ren realized, how a sleepover was called such a thing when no one could ever sleep during them. The trio had tried one last time to fall asleep and failed miserably. Ren was utterly exhausted at that point, but he refused to shut his eyes. It was comforting, being able to forget that the weight of the world rested partially on his shoulders for the night.
The first light of the dawn broke through the attic window, reflecting off of the icicles lining the outside and right into Ren’s eyes. He squinted and turned away, murmuring to himself, “That time already?”
Somehow still full of energy, Sumire said, “We should watch the sunrise together!”
Akechi gracelessly fell back onto the futon and covered his face with a pillow. “I think I’ll have to pass.”
“Not a morning person?” Ren teased.
Sumire shuffled over to Akechi and reached out for his hand. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Apparently, he had a really hard time saying no to her. Ren smiled as Akechi tossed the pillow aside and sat up, stretching his arms.
After bundling up, the three exited Leblanc. Had Ren not known otherwise, he would have never have guessed that Sumire hadn’t slept a wink. She scaled the side of the café with ease, extending a hand to Akechi to help him up. Once Akechi was stable on his feet, Ren followed suit, careful not to slip on the icy patches that had formed. When he reached the top, the glistening snow-covered rooftops of Yongen-Jaya greeted him as the first lights of dawn peeked out over the horizon. The sight of Sumire’s eyes lighting up, and Akechi giving her the fondest look Ren had seen from him, brought a smile to Ren’s face.
“Well,” Akechi conceded, “I suppose there are worse ways to spend my time.”
If Akechi could start to open up, so could Ren: one day. He would hold on to these precious memories, the good and the bad, each of them their own unique snowflake that Maruki couldn’t replicate. For the sake of the progress they had all made, for their justice, for their smiles, Ren would keep fighting.