Chapter Text
Chapter One: It Started with Hello
It’s raining again.
The sound of numerous droplets tapping against the old, stained windows next to his bed is the first thing that greets him upon assembling some sort of wakefulness. The chaotic, tuneless melody that the rain creates has always been quite soothing to him, comforting in a way that he can’t quite put words to. He floats about in a half aware haze for an indefinite period of time, stubbornly attempting to cling to sleep. With the gentle patter right beside his ear, he just about manages it too.
He’s inches away from blissful unawareness once more–when his alarm decides it’d be an excellent time to begin shrieking beside him.
Ren’s eyes shoot open.
Blearily, he reaches up to grab his phone. The device brightly displays the snooze and dismiss buttons when he directs it towards himself, causing him to cringe at the harsh light in the otherwise dark room. The time reads 7 in the morning, as his days often begin at. He presses the dismiss button, and the siren noise thankfully stops, leaving nothing but the sound of the rainfall in its wake.
He’s exhausted.
He wasn’t able to fall asleep until around 1 last night–which irks him to no end, since he actually tried to this time. He’s going to need some form of energy today, as it’s Sojiro’s day off, which leaves the shop under his care from open til close. Main perk of working at a cafe is easy access to caffeine, he thinks to himself wryly. Business is usually slow at Leblanc, and he finds himself grateful for it more often than not. Just enough customers find their way in to keep the doors open. It’s not a very hard job by any means, and he lives in the attic rent free; helping Sojiro out when he needs it is truly the least he could do.
However, as much as he loves a good rainy day, it infects him with that inescapable lethargy that the general atmosphere brings with it. In addition to his baseline low mood, it doesn’t make a good combination for serving customers with a smile.
His futon envelops him in warmth, and his eyes sting with fatigue. He yawns, briefly debating how terrible it’d be if he returned to sleep. Just 10 more minutes wouldn’t hurt.
A loud meow, and movement upon the top of his futon, swiftly and unfortunately remind him of his responsibilities.
His cat, Morgana, makes a point to use his body as a pathway up to his shoulder, so he can noisily complain directly into Ren’s ear. Ren jerks his arm, throwing off the scrawny tuxedo’s balance and prompting him to jump off. This does nothing to deter him. The cat simply saunters as close to his head as he can, and loudly expresses his hunger and discontent once more.
Annoyance slowly seeps into Ren’s being when it’s clear Morgana won’t allow him those few extra minutes of peace. He lets out a sigh, reluctantly accepting that it’s time to start his day. He slowly sits up, stretching his stiff arms above his head as he goes. That pesky, perpetual ache in his back makes itself known immediately upon achieving an upright position. It’s something that he clearly needs to see a doctor about, and is likely getting worse the longer he neglects the issue—but he puts it off regardless. He kneads at it with a firm hand, knowing that he’ll likely need a tylenol before the afternoon.
A familiar melancholy begins to settle over him as he halfheartedly worms out of his futon, only amplified further by the gloomy atmosphere caused by the weather. He grabs his phone and his glasses, sliding the former in his pocket and the latter on his face. He tries to guide himself into a more positive mindset as he gets up off his bed, Morgana hot at his heels as he sluggishly makes his way to the door. Today will likely be even slower than usual thanks to the dreary weather, and tomorrow, he'll finally have a free day to spend as he likes. He’s been working for the past four days straight between the both of his jobs; In addition to taking care of Leblanc on occasion, he works part time at a popular bookstore in Shibuya for supplemental income. Sojiro insists on paying him for the times that he works, but he can’t afford to employ his services for much more than around 15 to 20 hours a week at a fair wage. It’s not possible for Ren to pay for all of his needs and wants on just that pay alone—so, he took the bookstore job for extra money. At Sojiro, Futaba, and Dr. Maruki’s stern insistence, he doesn’t work more than 35 combined hours a week at his jobs. They know him and his little habit of overworking himself all too well by now.
Despite that troublesome and persistent feeling of guilt that hovers in his mind when he isn’t productive, Ren’s looking forward to lounging around and cuddling with Morgana. He’s exhausted from the constant adorning of his customer service mask, and he hasn’t had nearly enough time to recharge. There’s a stack of half read books on his desk that he’s been meaning to read, and some games he’s been meaning to play; He hopes the thought of them will get him through the rest of the day.
He slides into his slippers, shuffling towards the stairs and slowly making his descent. Morgana scurries ahead of him, meowing indignantly at his owner’s slow-moving pace when he reaches the bottom before him.
“I know, I know…Jeez.” Ren mutters, like the cat can understand a word he’s saying.
He makes his way into the kitchen, grabs a can of cat food from the designated cabinet space, and makes quick work of preparing Morgana’s breakfast. After setting it down and watching Morgana begin to scarf it down like a cat starved, Ren rinses out the can and tosses it into the recycling bin. He then makes his way back upstairs to his room. He simply stands there for a moment, knowing for a fact that he’s due for a shower; He was supposed to take one last night, but ended up foregoing it out of sheer laziness. Again. He doesn’t smell bad , persay–but he also doesn’t smell the freshest, either, and he knows that putting it off again will just continue to aid in throwing him off the habit. His hygiene tends to suffer first when he’s not feeling the best after all, as taking care of himself tends to feel like an irksome chore when it gets bad. He usually takes care to keep a rigid schedule, but he’s not been so great at keeping up with it, as far as the last few months are concerned. As such, Ren sighs and gathers his clothes for the day. He then goes to the bathroom, taking the time to look through the missed notifications from while he slept.
The only people who text him are Futaba, who texts him the most, occasionally Sojiro, and his sole other friend, Shiho Suzui. He met her in the partial hospitalization program he went to after…after everything. She’s one of the sweetest and kindest people he knows, and they’ve stayed in frequent contact ever since they both graduated from the program. When he opens the message app, he sees the usual slew of memes from Futaba—who can’t keep a sleep schedule to save her damn life—and a good morning text from Shiho. She wakes up even earlier than him on account of her early morning classes and commute, which he does not envy in the slightest. A picture of her cat, Agi, cuddled up with her sleeping girlfriend, Ann, awaits him. He reacts to the message with a heart, and shoots a good morning text her way. He leaves Futaba’s texts for later, as he’ll certainly need some entertainment for the dreary day ahead of him.
Ren takes a scalding hot shower as per usual, daydreaming about everything at once and nothing at all. Once he gets out, he slings a towel around his waist and grabs his phone again. He’s still got about thirty minutes before opening; It’s just enough time to get the rest of his routine out or the way. Eating can certainly wait, since no one really shows up in the first hour anyways. He brushes his teeth briskly, then opens up the mirror cabinets and downs his three daily medications. Afterwards, he takes out his vial of testosterone, as well as a clean syringe. With practiced ease, he prepares his injection, and lifts the towel to expose one scarred upper thigh. Carefully, he slides the syringe into his skin and depresses the plunger. After doing it every day for the better part of two years, the process doesn’t even really hurt anymore. He removes the needle and dumps it into the little sharps disposal that sits on his sink, then quickly rummages in the cabinet for a spare bandaid. Once he finds one, he slaps it on, and begins to dress.
He looks in the mirror before he goes. A lanky, perpetually messy haired and weary looking 22 year old stares back. He fusses with his hair, combing out some of the knots with his fingers and smoothing down the unruly cowlicks until it looks a little better.
Passable.
When he comes out of the bathroom, he finds Morgana patiently waiting for him beside the door. He meows loudly in greeting, as if demanding to know where Ren was for the short period of time that he was away from his sight. Morgana hates to be away from him; The claw shaped grooves on his door are testament to his aversion to being by himself for too long. He picks Morgana up and goes back to his room, gently setting him on the bed.
“Be good, ok? Don’t scratch up my door anymore, or I’ll have to pay Sojiro to fix it. I’m not made of money, you know,” He murmurs, and gives the cat a kiss on his little head.
Morgana purrs, and bunts affectionately against his cheek.
Ren walks back downstairs after shutting the door, and begins to set everything up. Really, he should be getting ready earlier so everything’s ready by opening—but it doesn’t take long to brew coffee for the light flow of customers who come in the morning, and he only really gets curry orders an hour or so into his shift. Sojiro can’t claim to be any better than him in that regard anyways.
The alarm he’d set for opening the night prior begins going off soon after, and he goes to the door, flipping the sign to open.
Ren hopes for his own sake that the day goes by quickly.
***
The day does not go by quickly.
It’s around 12:30 in the afternoon now, and he’s gotten a grand total of two customers—both of which were extraordinarily grating in their own special ways. The first was incredibly chatty and upbeat, content to hear himself talk about everything under the sun, and completely missing Ren’s clear attempts to disengage. He burnt his hand making his first curry order of the day, and the customer who received it complained that it wasn’t nearly as flavorful as Sojiro’s was. As predicted, the ache in his back became a sharp flare of pain around an hour ago, which has only been soothed minimally by the tylenol he took. Now, he’s settled into quite the sour mood rather than a generally melancholic one, which is doing absolutely nothing to make time go faster.
In fact, it feels like time is going even slower, inching along just to make Ren’s day worse.
He’s even gone through all the memes Futaba’s sent, which had steadily increased as the day crawled along (not to mention the ones he’d forgotten to look at). With his main source of entertainment gone, Ren scrolls mindlessly through Twitter, watching people squabble amongst themselves about trivial matters between cat pictures and art. He can feel himself growing more irritable as he stands there, with his back begging for rest and his hand stinging with pain. You can suck it up til your break, He tells himself firmly. Surely Sojiro wouldn’t mind if he had to take a few extra minutes; The old man would be more upset about him continuing to strain himself than Leblanc staying closed for a little over his designated half hour. His eyes drift towards the corner of his screen again, 12:37 staring back at him. He’s got about 6 hours left after this, so he could probably take his break now. He thinks better of it, though, preferring to stand as long as he can in the first half so he stands less during the second half. But maybe it’d just be better to take it now…
And then, the door opens again.
Ren lets out a soft curse and rolls his eyes when he hears the jingling of the door. With a sigh, he looks up—but his growing irritation begins to fade immediately upon doing so.
A handsome young man around his age with black hair and faded blond tips comes walking into the store. He’s broad shouldered and tall, wearing a graphic t-shirt, beat up jeans, and an oversized purple hoodie. A pair of piercings frame his bottom lip and his half shaved brows, and there are simple black gagues in his ears, which enhance his striking features rather nicely. As he approaches, it becomes apparent how gaunt and skinny he is; Large dark circles have made their home beneath his deep brown eyes, and his cheeks, embellished with a light beard, appear rather sunken in.
He’s undeniably attractive—but he looks utterly exhausted. More so than Ren does whenever he gets a glimpse of himself in the mirror, which is quite the feat in itself.
Oddly enough, though, he looks vaguely familiar. Ren simply can’t put his finger on where he might have seen him first, or if he had even done so at all.
He looks around, wearing the familiar expression of wonder that the average newcomer sports when they stumble across the little cafe. When the other man notices Ren’s staring, his entire face suddenly lights up, and he positively beams at him in greeting. Ren is quite literally almost blinded by the sight, his heart speeding up immdiately. It takes everything in him to maintain eye contact.
“Hey there.” He says cheerfully, giving him a wave. His liveliness is quite unexpected, completely in contrast to his appearance. “Uh, you got a menu?”
“Oh, um. Yeah. Of course.” Ren bumbles. Silently cursing himself, he pulls out a menu from under the counter and hands it to him.
“Thank you!” He says, plopping down right at the counter. Because of course he does. “Got any good recs for a newbie? I like a little of everythin’, but I really like anythin’ with meat in it. Y’know, if it’s not like too expensive or anythin’.”
“Yeah, I do.” Ren replies, scrambling for his customer service mask. “My favorite is the ‘House Special Curry’, but I also like the Katsu Curry and the Roux Curry.”
“Ooo, those sound so good…” He flips open the menu, likely looking for the pricing of all of them—and then winces. “Agh, maybe next time though. I’ll definitely come back for that House Special Curry. I like the vibes this place gives anyways. Can I just get some curry rice please? Oh, wait.”
He shoves a hand into the pocket of his sweater and brings out a ratty leather wallet. He leafs through it briefly, a little frown on his face as he does so.
Then, his expression completely crumples in disappointment.
He sighs heavily, then valiantly attempts to muster up that same smile. This time, it doesn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m a little short on cash right now, so I’ll come back when I can. Mind if I take this with me?” the guy asks, waving the menu a little. His stomach decides then to make an angry noise of protest, and his cheeks color in embarrassment.
Ren’s heart clenches painfully. The curry rice is their least expensive item by a longshot.
“Are you…um,” Ren starts, about to ask him if he will go hungry if he doesn’t eat now. He thinks better of it, since the answer is rather clear, and the guy’s ashamed enough as is. “Just stay there. I’ll make it for you.”
“B-But I can’t pay for it—“
“Don’t worry about it.”
Relief, gratefulness and joy are clear on his face when it blossoms into that positively radiant smile again, and Ren can hardly look at him. He can feel his own face beginning to heat up in response, and he immediately turns away to begin his preparations.
“Thank you so much, man. Like. Thank you. You don’t even know how much you’re helpin’ me out here. I-I’ll pay you back; I swear to God. ” He says heartfeltly.
“Don’t worry about it.” Ren insists again, gathering the ingredients and beginning to prepare the food. “You don’t have to pay it back. It’s just curry rice.”
“Yeah, it’s just curry rice that’s cheap as hell, and somehow I still can’t pay for it. God this is so fuckin humiliatin’…” The guy mumbles. “You’re gettin’ your money back whether you like it or not.”
“If I take it from you, that is.” Ren quips. He hesitates for a moment before putting extra of all the components in, hoping that he’ll at least have something to snack on for later.
The guy gasps, affronted. “‘Scuse you! Whatever, I’ll just sneak it on the register when you’re not lookin’.”
“Uh huh.” Ren replies noncommittally, his lips involuntarily quirked in a little smile. He puts a little extra oomph into this one, falling into the familiar motions with ease and efficiency. “You’re welcome to try.”
The guy laughs, and Ren savors the sound.
“You’re funny,” He says after he recovers. “What’s your name, by the way? Mine’s Ryuji.”
Ryuji. That vague familiarity tugs at him again, but it’s weak enough that he still can’t quite remember why it’s there. He takes note of the name, filing it neatly into his mind for future use.
“My name’s Ren.” He turns around then, steaming plate in hand. At the sight of it, Ryuji’s eyes go almost comically wide, and his stomach growls loudly again.
“Holy shit, this is massive. You guys really charge that little for that much? I’m gonna have to take this home!!” Ryuji exclaims incredulously. “Now I really gotta pay you back…”
“Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Ren says, setting the plate down in front of him.
Ryuji happily announces his thanks, draping the big cloth napkin over his lap. Ren looks on expectantly as the first bite is taken—and Ryuji lets out a very nearly obscene moan, eyes fluttering as he chews. The food is then promptly attacked with gusto. Ren not-so-subtly preens as he does so, the little dopey grin that has appeared on his face refusing to wipe itself off. Job well done, me.
Ryuji is forced to slow down when about a quarter of the plate remains, sighing contently as he reluctantly puts down his spoon. He turns to Ren, awe in his eyes. “Dude. The hell didja put into that damn rice?? This effin’ rocks!!”
“My special secret recipe is not for sale.” Ren responds, a playful tone to his voice . “…But you can always come back to get some more.”
“Oh trust me, I’ll be back. Still owe ya, remember?” Ryuji says, plowing on before Ren can protest again. “God, I’m so glad I found this place. I ain’t even known it existed in the first place, and it’s hidden in Yongen of all places. Amazin’ food, crazy good service…I’m surprised it’s so deserted!”
“Well, you said it yourself; We’re hidden in a back street in Yongen.” Ren answers, scratching at the back of his head and attempting to reel himself back in.
“I gotta tell my co-workers about it. They’ll love this place.” Ryuji remarks. He yawns and stretches inelegantly. “Hey, uh, you don’t mind if I stay here a little longer, right? I’ve got some time to kill.”
“Feel free.” Ren says simply. There aren’t any customers anyways, and it’s not like there’s some sort of time limit (unless it’s near closing)—and Ryuji’s presence has caused all of his prior aggravation to evaporate like it was never there at all.
“Thanks man. You’re a really cool guy.” Ryuji smiles again, stealing all of Ren’s breath in one fell swoop.
“Uh. Thanks.” He mumbles. He’s sure his ears have to resemble the exact shade of a cherry by now.
They chat idly amongst themselves, Ryuji carrying the conversation, but clearly interested in whatever Ren has to say. He learns that they’re the same age, and that Ryuji works three jobs: one as a mechanic and detailer, one as an overnight stocker for a massive discount supercenter, and one doing food delivery on his days off between the two. He doesn’t elaborate on why he works so much, and Ren doesn’t ask–but vague concern gnaws at him as Ryuji tells him about each.
“It’s not so bad. Like, sure, I gotta work my ass off to get the bills paid. But I’m used to it. Been workin’ since like this since I was 16.” Ryuji waves his hand flippantly, dismissing the worry that must be clearly showing on Ren’s face.
And yet, he can’t even afford to feed himself, Ren thinks to himself with a frown. He still doesn’t press, though.
“Hey, uh, weird question, but it’s been botherin’ me—Do I know you from somewhere?” Ryuji abruptly asks. “Not sure why, but you kinda look familiar. Um…well you definitely didn’t go to my middle school; I woulda known immediately. Did you go to Shujin or somethin? That's where I went to secondary. Fulla stuck up, overachievin’ assholes, if ya ask me.”
Shit.
Ren could lie. He could just say ‘no’, and get a fresh start with this cute guy who, at the very least, seems to want to be friends. He could tread carefully and get a gauge on his attitude towards people like him, and come out later if he passes Ren’s safety checklist.
He’s not sure what possesses him to be honest—but he is. “Yeah, actually. I transferred there in my second year.”
“Second year…but there were only two transfers that year, and they were both girls. Unless you transferred before I, uh, left.” Ryuji ponders.
“You…left?” Ren asks.
Then it hits him.
This is Ryuji Sakamoto , the most infamous delinquent of Shujin Academy prior to Ren’s arrival—and the only drop out they’d had in years. Ryuji’s abrupt departure in the middle of the year had caused rumors to run rampant (and Ren had almost been grateful at the time, as it took some of the attention off of him, the kid with the literal assault charge on his record). Nobody ever knew what happened to him; Some suspected he’d dropped out to join a gang, like the lawless criminal-to-be they thought he was, or just because he was too stupid and lazy to keep up. Most were far too busy making outlandish, defamatory rumors about him to actually care what’d even happened to him. Ren hadn’t known him well enough to do much more than wonder. He was a part of a miniscule minority, however; The rest were just pleased to scrape his presence off Shujin’s pristine reputation, like a pesky glob of chewed gum stuck to the bottom of their dress shoes.
The only thing he and Ren shared back then was their status of being so-called “unruly menaces to society”; They weren’t even in the same class, let alone had any reason to interact outside that. Ren was far too preoccupied with keeping his head down to care much about anyone else, and making friends in this new, toxic environment he found himself in was the furthest thing from his mind.
Though, they had interacted once.
It’d been raining that day too, and it was on Ren’s first miserable day at Shujin. Ryuji was the first person to show him any form of kindness upon arriving. He’d shown him a shortcut to Shujin’s gates, warned him about the rumors circulating, and wished him good luck. Ren had always wondered what had happened to him, despite the fact that they were never close.
“Um, yeah. I did. To take care of my Ma.” Ryuji responds after a moment’s delay, his confused expression turning to one of deep sadness. It’s one that he quickly decides that he abhors seeing on Ryuji’s face. But once again, Ryuji doesn’t elaborate further, and Ren doesn’t pry.
“To answer your question: I transferred at the beginning of the year. We didn’t interact much, but…you showed me the shortcut to the gate.” Ren states, swiftly attempting to guide Ryuji away from his clear sorrow. He’ll surely realize once he thinks about it, and Ren feels himself growing tense as he waits with bated breath.
After a few moments, recognition finally ignites in Ryuji’s eyes, and they grow wide instantly.
“OH! Oh. Ok. I’m gettin’ it now.” He smiles reassuringly at Ren, and mimes zipping his lips, throwing away an imaginary key. “Don’t worry dude; your secret’s safe with me.”
Ren deflates, relief flooding into him like an strangely soothing torrent. “Thanks.”
Ryuji makes a ‘come hither’ motion, cupping his hand as a signal for him to lean in close once he does. Bewildered, Ren does so.
“And just between you n’ me—I think you look much better like this anyways.” He whispers rather loudly. And then, he proceeds to wink at Ren.
Ren’s entire face ignites in flames, and he lets out a startled little laugh. Is he flirting with me?? Is that what this is??
“W-What, did that rat's nest going down to my waist not do it for you back then?” Ren manages to sputter out, and Ryuji loses it, tears sprouting at the corner of his eyes through his laughter.
When he recovers, cheeks adorably pink and smile utterly brilliant, he responds. “Not sayin’ it didn’t —but maaaaybe a brush woulda helped? Prolly woulda been able to see ya better. But who am I to talk, with my shitty box blonde dye job.”
They both start laughing loudly then, tears leaking from their eyes. This time, though, it’s interrupted by an alarm that isn’t his own. Ryuji pulls out a beat up, outdated smartphone from his right pocket, and his face falls a little.
“Agh, I should uh, get back to work now.” Ryuji says regretfully.
Ren grimaces sympathetically, and begins packing his remaining food. He sneaks in a few more snacks in the bag before handing it off—just in case.
“Alrighty, I’m off,” Ryuji says once Ren returns with his neatly wrapped takeout bag. “Thanks so much for the food and for lettin’ me stick around. I’ll totally be back. What days are you usually around?”
“I’ll always be here on Sundays. My schedule fluctuates, though.” Ren replies.
“Gotcha. See you around, Ren!” He turns to leave, one arm carefully supporting his cargo and one resting in his pocket.
“Wait!” Ren calls impulsively. Ryuji turns to look at him questioningly. “Um. I-If you’re ever hungry and don’t have enough for food, come here.”
The beauty of Ryuji’s smile dazzles him once again. “Thank you, Ren. I really mean it.”
Then, he’s out the door.
Ren sighs, picking up his phone—and is shocked to see that an entire hour has passed without him noticing. There are also a few texts from Futaba waiting for him, and he flicks open the chat again.
HoneyOTU: kehehe i chose a good time to spy it seems
HoneyOTU: goddamn ur fuckin smitten huh
HoneyOTU: all it took was one smile to thaw ur cold dead heart XD idr the last time u actively made convo with anyone other than me, sojiro n shiho
An indignant frown forms on Ren’s face, and he finds himself blushing furiously again. Right. She has cameras in here. How could I possibly forget.
JokerXIII: fuck off and stop being a creep
HoneyOTU: ur just mad cuz im right loverboy
HoneyOTU: n ur a dangerous criminal of course i gotta keep an eye on the place
HoneyOTU: who knows what you’ll do unsupervised (≖_≖ )
Before he can fire back another response, his aching back makes itself known again with another flare of pain. He looks over to where one of the hidden cameras is, and sticks up a rather vicious middle finger. Time for a break.
***
Five customers, two tylenols, two coffees, and 6 long hours later, Ren is nearly tripping over himself in his haste to flip the sign to ‘Closed’. Although Ryuji’s presence had brightened his day significantly, he’d been running on lower energy than from the get-go. There's only so much rejuvenation that a nice meeting with a pretty boy can give him before he returns to his standard level of non-enthusiasm—but at least it remained that way instead of returning to how it was near the mid-point.
As soon as the door is locked, Ren deflates instantly, feeling his fatigue much more acutely. He likely won’t be able to sleep til at least midnight, no matter how tired he is. He silently curses his own night owl tendencies as he plops down into the booth nearest to the front entrance. He still has to clean all the equipment and wash all remaining the dishes, but he allows himself a few moments of rest. He’d been standing most of the day with a bad back, after all.
His mind ends up drifting towards Ryuji again, as it has been pretty frequently since he left.
He’s quite pleased that their paths crossed again, this time without being suffocated by the poisonous rumors and cruel reminders of their low social hierarchy status. Ryuji’s incredibly friendly and endearing—far cry to what the tall tales floating around Shujin’s halls told about him. He’d heard the warped stories about the notorious “Track Traitor”, but it was Shiho who’d ended up telling him what had actually happened. The same vile coach who had forced himself upon her and leaked Ren’s criminal record to the school had been the cause of the incident. Kamoshida had taken over the track team the year prior after the old coach was fired, and physically abused them simply due to his dislike of them. As the star of the track team and the only person who dared to fight back, Ryuji got it the worst. It’d all come to a breaking point when Kamoshida had decided to divulge Ryuji’s past and homelife to the student body. Ryuji had finally snapped and retaliated with an attempted punch—and Kamoshida had broken his leg in response, ending both his blooming career and the track team as a whole. Ryuji was lucky to escape without an assault charge like Ren’s.
Everyone was content to find a scapegoat in Ryuji instead, however. He was naught but a martyr whose body was proudly displayed as an example.
The thought of it still brings up fresh anger within him. Kamoshida is rotting in a cell now, but taking his freedom is not nearly enough penance for what he’s done.
Clearly, Ryuji’s life has been quite difficult since then. Ren’s admittedly rather curious to know what’s happened to him in these years that they’ve not seen or heard from one another. He knows better than to pry on what is evidently quite the sensitive subject.
His phone buzzes in his pocket again, and he retrieves it, fully expecting it to be Futaba again. This time, however, it’s Shiho, likely having just returned from school.
Lune_Bea: Hey, hope you had a good day :)
Lune_Bea: Just wanted to check in.
Ren smiles a bit as he types out his response. It’s a ritual of sorts between them; They always try to text each other at least once a day to look out for one another.
JokerXIII: it was long
JokerXIII: just closed up tho
JokerXIII: ryuji sakamoto came in today
Lune_Bea: Ryuji Sakamoto?? Wow, haven’t heard that name in a while. How is he? What’s he up to now?
Lune_Bea: I haven’t seen him since he dropped out.
JokerXIII: he works like. threeish jobs. one full time, one part time, and he does delivery on the side
JokerXIII: he looked so exhausted
Lune_Bea: Omg that sounds awful :( I feel bad for him.
JokerXIII: me too
JokerXIII: idk why he works sm
JokerXIII: i didn’t wanna press
Lune_Bea: Probably for the best. If he wasn’t upfront, it’s probably a more touchy subject.
JokerXIII : yea. he said he’d be back tho
JokerXIII: i hope he does come back actually. he’s really nice
JokerXIII: idk how people were so mean to him.
Lune_Bea: They needed a scapegoat, and Ryuji was their easy target. It’s just the ‘as long as it isn’t me’ mentality that so many of us had.
Lune_Bea: Sakamoto-kun was rough around the edges, but I always remember him being a kind person at heart. He deserved better.
JokerXIII : yea
JokerXIII: how was school tho
They continue to chat idly as Ren begins cleaning up, pausing so he can wash up the dishes and prepare Morgana’s dinner. She departs from the conversation after a little while to start on her homework, wishing him a good night. Ren then goes upstairs to let Morgana out when everything is finished. The cat begins scraping against the door as soon as he hears Ren approaching, yowling irritably when he opens it and immediately going to rub against his legs. Ren scoops the cat up in his arms, giving him a few kisses on his forehead, and he purrs affectionately.
After Morgana has eaten, they curl together in Ren’s bed beneath the warmth of the futon, a book in Ren’s hands. He becomes lost within the pages for a few hours, the words painting vivid pictures in his mind.
It’s only around 10:30 when Ren, strangely enough, actually starts to feel drowsy. He puts the book down after dog-earing the page, slowly drifting off to the sound of the still falling rain rapping lightly against his window.
He dreams of purple hoodies and a smile that brightens rooms.