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“I wonder why we couldn’t have met a few years earlier, Ren…”
There had been a genuine smile on his face, just before their battle.
“Under different circumstances, we could have been great rivals… or perhaps even friends.”
But now, as the false Akechi points the barrel of a gun at the vulnerable and defeated Black Mask, mocking the feelings of the latter for all the Phantom Thieves to see, Ren’s mind is riddled with fresh memories.
“Why am I inferior to you!? How does someone like you have things I don’t! How can such a worthless piece of trash be more special than me!?”
What ‘things’ was Akechi referring to, exactly? Was he unsatisfied as the Detective Prince, admired from afar by the public, yet without anyone to truly cherish him? Loved by everyone, yet still painfully alone?
“…You’re so lucky,” he rasped, “Lucky to be surrounded… by teammates who acknowledge you…”
So, that was it, then. The friends and teammates he was so quick to curse… the acceptance of peers he was so ready to denounce.
Akechi’s circumstances weren’t so different from Ren’s – wronged by the same man, even, before being thrust into a society that wanted nothing to do with them. But though Akechi had fame and a spotless record over Ren, he was missing one important thing. The one thing that differentiated the two of them, and led them down their separate paths.
“You don’t allow yourself to be enslaved by such things as human relations or past selves… and so, your heart is always free. The exact opposite of mine.”
Akechi trusted no one. He viewed relationships as burdens, yet his heart so desperately ached for them. For Ren, the people around him weren’t things that held him back, but rather, they were the things that gave him strength – the things that gave him his reason to fight.
Trust, acknowledgement, and love, from and for the people truly important to him… those were the only things that let Ren keep going, when the going got tough. Had he not met the Phantom Thieves after coming to Tokyo, perhaps he would have been just as bitter and spiteful as the man before him.
“And once Shido confesses his crimes, you’ll all be heroes,” he squeezes his eyes shut. “As for me, people will find out my past deductions were just charade. My fame and trust will vanish.”
With a broken, defeated voice that was hard to believe was screaming maniacally just moments prior, he continues, “In the end… I couldn’t be special…”
How wrong Akechi was, on so many levels – being a Wildcard only one of them. And seeing each of his friends so willing to try and make him understand that – including Futaba and Haru, wronged by him as they were – filled Ren’s heart with pride. Even now, they were willing to give him a second chance…
He’d never truly be able to make things right again, but he could try, day by day. And perhaps one day, he could move on from the darkness that plagued him so. He even seemed to be seriously considering their offer.
“…You all are truly beyond my comprehension.”
How unfortunate, then, that things had to turn out this way.
“What’s all this nagging about,” the false Akechi turns its attention to their group, annoyed with their hushed whispering amongst themselves. “Want me to take care of you first?”
As the doppelganger continues its prideful taunting, Ren realizes something critical: this thing… is not Akechi. It’s Shido’s cognition of Akechi, and Shido thinks of him as a dangerous, but foolish and naïve, child.
And that might be all that Ren needs.
He is suddenly very grateful for two things: Makoto’s idea of creating basic hand gestures to indicate commands, – originally for a scenario where Ren is incapacitated or unable to speak, – and his habit of slouching over in the Metaverse with his right hand behind him – usually for keeping his dagger just out of view of the enemy.
Praying that she’ll notice and remember the symbols, he carefully but deliberately signs to Haru with his right hand – Noir, On my mark, Makarakarn, and the sign they had created for Crow. He hears the softest of gasps from behind him and nearly sighs with relief. As expected, the false Akechi is too caught up in its monologue to notice.
However, it’s at that moment that it tells the real Akechi to shoot him, and to Ren’s disappointment, Akechi raises his gun. And suddenly, staring down the solid metal barrel, Ren is hit with much older memories.
Nights spent conversing comfortably with drinks in hand, soft jazz playing in the background. Two rivals throwing darts with deadly accuracy, scoring a perfect game with a dazzling finish. The click-clacks of billiard balls, colliding and rolling and knocking against each other, before sinking gracefully into their pockets. A friendly but charged duel in the dark depths of Mementos. A black glove and a symbol of their rivalry, still safely tucked away with his other belongings.
Was it all a lie? Was that part of the façade, too?
The real Akechi laughs, and it’s an almost pitiful sound. “I was such a fool.”
Ren recalls the somber smile that was on his face, just before their battle. And as he looks through the shattered visor of that black mask, he realizes there isn’t a look of anger, or even one of silent resignation.
That same smile from before is plastered there, and despite the gun he's pointing his way and the impostor breathing down his neck, there’s a glimmer of rebellion burning in Akechi’s eyes.
“…Don’t misunderstand,” he says slowly, deliberately, as if begging Ren to understand what he is trying to say.
And all of a sudden, Ren understands. Understands that though his Detective Prince persona was a façade, their rivalry was not. That the lonely, twisted boy standing there could have just as easily been him. That Akechi would finally take his life into his own hands, acting for a purpose beyond petty revenge.
And that Goro Akechi is about to try something very, very stupid.
“You’re the one who’s going to disappear!”
Suddenly, he turns sharply towards his lookalike, and a sharp BANG rings through the air as he pulls the trigger.
But Ren isn’t expecting the second shot that goes whizzing by his head, and suddenly an alarm is blaring, red lights are flashing, and he realizes it’s now or never.
“NOW, NOIR!”
He jumps into action, rushing forwards as he hears Haru call out to her Persona, casting the magic-deflecting spell on the real Akechi. Ren is suddenly standing between him and his still-stunned fake, and after a moment, he sees a huge door slide up from the ground, cutting them off from the shouting voices of his teammates.
But the shadows surrounding the pair are closing in, and the false Akechi is recovering and looks just about ready to blow, so he's got no time for aiming an accurate spell – he’s still exhausted and worse for wear after the consecutive battles they just went through, but he doesn’t have any other choice. He gathers up the power still swirling within him, letting it build and intensify and concentrate, and then…
“COSMIC FLARE!”
A brilliant burst of shining blue energy erupts forth, collecting and coalescing and growing as it crashes into the floor directly in front of them. It expands outwards in a massive sphere of devastating destruction, rending the bodies of the shadows asunder. It continues expanding harmlessly through him like a cool breeze, but he sees Akechi’s eyes widen as it reaches him as well – before a glimmering shield reflects the attack, and suddenly there’s an agonizing, excruciating pain searing over Ren’s body, the scream in his ears coming from his own mouth.
He collapses to his knees, vision blurring and hearing going muddy, and it feels like an eternity before the explosion of power finally ceases, and with it, the pain recedes into a body-wide stinging and a dull, painful ache.
That was really freaking stupid.
He shakily gets to his feet, sight and sound finally returning to him. He finds himself wishing it didn’t when he once again hears the incessant blare of the sirens overhead.
“Are you actually fucking stupid?!” Akechi shouts incredulously. “Why would you do that?!”
“I'm not giving up on you that easily,” he croaks, clearing his throat. Looking to his side, he finds the older boy scowling fiercely. “Besides, I’m still holding on to your glove.”
His eyes widen in surprise, and he wheezes out a laugh. “After all this, that's what you have to say? Seriously, you really are…” He trails off, then shakes his head. “I'm glad to see you still take our rivalry seriously. I intend to continue doing the same.”
A weak movement catches both of their attention, and they turn to see the cognitive Akechi laying prone on the floor. It’s been incapacitated by the attack and is feebly reaching for its gun, just barely out of reach on the floor ahead of it. The real Goro Akechi pulls out his own, pointing the barrel at the imitation.
“How fitting an end for you,” he growls. “From today forwards, I'm going to live for myself. I'm done being that damn bastard’s puppet.”
He pulls the trigger, and the doppelganger is no more.
A beat of silence passes, then another, and Goro holsters his weapon.
Ren looks around himself and finds no other figures besides the boy in black-and-blue. He wasn’t really expecting to take all the shadows out in one go, but hey, he'll will take a win where he can get one.
Well, he's also barely standing, so he doesn't know if he can really call it a win.
He can hear the concerned voices of his friends beyond the giant door, and he realizes it’s going to be a royal pain trying to get it ope-
“Now that that's over with,” Goro’s voice drawls next to him, “Why, exactly, would you cast Makarakarn on me?” He turns to him with a scowl (Ren wonders if it's just his 'resting bitch face,' as he's heard it called – it would be another thing he can relate to, if that turns out to be the case). “I could've taken that hit easily. Did you want to get yourself killed?”
He laughs, and regrets it when his torso protests in pain. “Look who’s talking, smartass. You were the one trying to martyr yourself.”
He snarls darkly. “I was trying to save you and your stubborn friends, you imbecile!”
“And you did! We’re safe now.” He points a thumb at the massive steel blockade in their path. “Now, help me find a way to get this thing open. And,” he pauses, “You should probably think about what you want to do, after this.”
Leaving the older boy flabbergasted behind him, he trails up to the door and knocks twice, letting his friends know they’re safe. The gunshot they heard, immediately followed by silence, had understandably worried them.
They speak for a while, tossing around ideas ranging from cutting a hole through the door to blasting it clean open, until Futaba clears her throat and pulls out her laptop. They resign to patiently letting her work her magic.
Not entirely unexpectedly, Goro did not help him find a way to get the door open, and instead seemed to be silently mulling over his thoughts, leaning against a wall. Ren takes a spot a short distance away, and takes a moment to cast Mediarama with the last of his energy. His companion grunts in appreciation but says nothing further.
As Ren lets him sort through his thoughts, he gets lost in his own. He doesn’t at all expect Goro to try attacking him again, especially after what just happened. But he’s not entirely sure where the other boy wants to go next – clearly, his days of causing mental shutdowns are over, one way or another. Now, the matter is of whether he will join the Phantom Thieves in their final fight for justice, or not.
As the Detective Prince, he spoke big about sticking to his own justice, but as it turns out, said justice was merely a twisted desire to get revenge on the man who ruined his life. And now, having learned that his plan, two years in the making, would have all been for naught anyways after Shido disposed of him, Ren hoped Goro would consider seeing things their way.
We’re going to change Shido’s heart. For the sake of society. For the victims he wronged – for myself, for my teammates… and for Goro, too.
“Ren.”
He looks to his side, and finds the other boy staring him down. Through his cracked visor, his face shows clear fatigue, but his eyes are set and determined.
“...Goro.” The use of his first name momentarily surprises him, but he quickly recovers.
“Your friends, naïve as they can be, had a point,” he narrows his eyes. “We do both hate the same person, and it's only logical that we work together. And as much as I hate to admit it,” he sighs heavily, gluing his eyes to the ground, “For so long, I was nothing more than a puppet, foolishly thinking that I was the one with the upper hand. For all this time, I was not living as a person of my own.
“But now? Now, I will. I was so eager to exact my revenge for two long years… and I wasn’t even going to get it, in the end.” He pauses for a moment, seeming to come to some conclusion in his head, then continues. “I'll join your little coalition, if you'll have me. But – don’t think this is because I feel indebted to you. It was entirely your own insane choice to cast fucking Cosmic Flare on yourself.”
“It was. And it hurt like all hell.” Goro tries to ignore his comment, but Ren catches the faintest smirk on his face before he moves on.
“I want to end Shido’s crimes, and settle things once and for all. Starting with setting things straight with you.”
He offers a clawed hand in a handshake, and Ren considers it for a moment (mostly because he had never noticed the claws) before accepting it firmly.
“I will only say this once, so listen well,” he stares into his eyes. “You are a better man than me. I don’t know how, but in spite of your circumstances, you overcame adversity, held fast to a justice worth fighting for, and became someone praiseworthy. And for that, I respect you.” He lets go of his hand. “But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t still jealous of you. Your teammates not only respect you, but unconditionally trust and admire you. Tell me, how did you do it?”
Ren thinks for a long moment, and honestly comes up blank. Why do they trust me…?
“To be honest… I don’t know for sure. But what I can say is,” he attempts, “In my eyes, they and I are equal. I treat them all as the people they are, and I'll tell them off when they do something wrong, but I won't hold it against them. And I expect them to do the same for me.
“I know I can trust any one of them with my life, and in turn, they trust me with theirs.” Goro still doesn't seem fully satisfied with his answer, but Ren doesn't know what else to tell him. He rubs the back of his neck. “Maybe you can try asking them, instead of me. They probably have their own reasons.”
“...How,” he scowls from behind his mask. “How is it that you can so freely put that trust in the hands of another…?”
“Freely?” Ren thinks. “No, it doesn't come freely – far from it, in fact. It takes time, and you have to be willing to trust them… willing to take that first step, difficult and frightening as it may be, to make yourself vulnerable.” He hears Futaba whoop in joy from the other side of the door, followed by the cheers of the others, and he smiles. “You might have to open your heart up to the possibility of pain, but in doing so, you also open yourself up to the potential of the acceptance and the warmth of another person. But you can’t just stop there.
“You have to prove to them that you're someone worth relying on, and someone worth cherishing. And once you do…”
With a loud groan, the huge door between them begins lowering, and the excited voices of his friends become clearer and clearer.
“They become people you can rely on and cherish, too.”
That answer seems to sate him, for now, and he's clearly mulling over what he’s just heard. It'll take time, but Ren hopes that one day, Goro will understand.
He doesn't think he can ever fully forgive him for everything that he’s done, and he suspects his teammates feel the same. But they're willing to give him a second chance, and to help him move on to a new chapter of his life.
And he hopes Goro will let them be a part of that new chapter. It's obvious enough that he needs some damn friends.
There's still another thing bugging Ren, though, so he trails behind the group with him as they return to the main hall of the ship. Everyone is tired and ready to call it a day (dealing with all the latent feelings will have to come at a later date), and hopefully the treasure will be just beyond the big door with the five slots.
“So,” better to just rip the band-aid off, “What about all the mental shutdowns?”
Goro raises an eyebrow, then sighs. “Right. All the crimes… They were in no small part my doing.” He ponders for a good while as they walk. “I think, after his change of heart, Shido will take the legal responsibility for them, and probably do time for them, too. He did order every one of them, after all… But,” he pauses briefly, lips pulled taught. “I won't let that be the end of it, for me. I don't know how yet, but I'm going to make up for what I’ve done… I swear it.”
Ren nods. Logically, Goro can't do much to right his wrongs if he's dead or stuck in prison. And if he really dedicates himself to it, he's sure the older boy will find some way to make up for his misdeeds, one step at a time.
Later, once they've secured their infiltration route and exchanged their pleasantries for the night (along with Goro swearing to clear things up with the group at the first opportunity tomorrow – an inevitable conversation, but not one they’re looking forward to), Ren's mind wanders…
There was plenty of time between Goro shooting the control panel and the huge doors actually beginning to close, what with the entire pre-recorded warning playing in full beforehand. He clearly knew where the door was going to emerge from, and everyone, including his fake, was shocked into inaction in the moment.
All he had to do was take the few short steps necessary to be on the other side of the door when it closed, or simply dive towards the Thieves after taking his shot. Yet, he didn't move a muscle…
Ren realizes something concerning, and it shocks him enough that he audibly gasps. “That bastard…”
Goro Akechi was possibly the most dramatic dumbass on the planet. Maybe an even greater dramatic dumbass than him.
And that reinvigorates his rivalry with him far more than anything else that could have happened today.