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Ren had failed.
His friends were all imprisoned in the Velvet Room.
The man guiding his rehabilitation had not been who he had claimed but an imposter, wielding power beyond even his greatest fears.
Things had looked so helpless that he’d surrendered to the faux-Igor’s demands, unsure he could stand against the man alone, effectively dooming humanity in the process.
In hindsight, he realised it had been foolish of him to trust that imposter.
But his friends. He couldn’t risk endangering them.
They’d been all he’d when he started living in this unfamiliar city. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to survive without them. They’d helped him grow stronger, strengthening his potential as the Wildcard even further.
Without them at his side, helping to guide him, he felt lost; powerless. He would have gone to any lengths to ensure their safety. If he’d known Igor’s true intentions and the fate they would meet because of him standing down, Ren would have never considered it.
If only he could have another chance.
Yet, as that thought entered his mind, Ren noticed his vision steadily blurring from navy blue to black, before it was overwhelmed by light.
His consciousness drifted back into a train carriage, an announcement over the speaker’s still ringing in his ears; a voice he’d heard countless times.
Ayoama-Itchobe, next stop.
Ren blinked. Once. Twice. Each time expecting the image before him to clear. Certain that at any moment the facade would shatter giving way to the hellscape Igor had created once more.
Yet it remained.
Tentatively, his gaze shifted, crossing the lines of his Shujin blazer, before turning toward the carriage window beside him; a flurry of passing, vaguely familiar residential districts. Adjusting in his seat, he was drawn to the noticeably light bag over his shoulder; missing the weight of a familiar companion.
With the fog lifting from his mind, Ren was able to piece together each clue and place where he was.
Disconcertingly, he held a memory of this exact moment while it simultaneously played out before his eyes.
Somehow, he was several months in the past, making his trip to Tokyo for the first time.
Yet, even knowing this, he was somehow conscious of things he shouldn’t have been. Things that, as far as he was concerned, were yet to happen.
He still held onto a terror that, in his mind, had just passed by. A fear he was yet to face, for people he didn’t even know.
However, that fear was eased by relief in realising that his plea had been granted.
Even if it meant returning to the very beginning, it appeared he had been given another chance.
Though, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was dealing with; time travel or another world line entirely; Ren knew that he needed to be careful.
He’d read of phenomena like this before and the danger that could potentially come with it. The Butterfly Effect; how a seemingly small change could significantly alter the course of the world over a long time.
Still, even with the detailed account he had given Sae-san, under the influence, he wasn’t sure he could retrace his steps the exact same way he had before.
Some things were going to be different.
He knew too much, feelings for and connections to others that would pull at him, desperately. He could tell he would struggle to contain himself and the relief he felt upon just seeing his friends again. Safe and unharmed. On an unconscious level, there were some things he simply wouldn’t be able to experience the same way.
It became apparent when he was greeted by the image of Arsene and himself engulfed in flames at Shibuya crossing. Something that, at the time, had startled him.
Now it brought him comfort, fully understanding what that power meant and the changes he could make with it.
There was an eerie frustration that came with living through the same days over, knowing exactly what awaited him. Ren was forced to struggle through things he had already worked hard to overcome; the ire of a stricter, more distant Sojiro, the labels and rumours surrounding him at Shujin, avoiding Ushimaru-sensei’s chalk with a relaxed shift of his head.
It was made all the more challenging now that he held knowledge of the darker, more foreboding fates that awaited others.
He would pass Shiho Suzui in the halls, knowing what was to come for her and wondering if there was a way he could intervene. On the one hand, her attempt had been the last straw that convinced Ryuji and Ann to take a stand against Kamoshida, regardless of what fate he may suffer.
But, it was something that Suzui didn’t deserve, something he didn’t wish to see her live through again.
He had retained the knowledge and memory of Old Man Tora’s rallies, how those passionate speeches, the man’s teachings, had helped to improve his powers of negotiation and ability to move others with words. Maybe he could convince the others to act before things got to that point.
Not to mention, they had been hesitant to act. Stealing a person’s corrupted desires, destroying a Palace that existed in their subconscious. Back then, these ideas were startlingly new and unfamiliar to Ren. Even Morgana
They couldn’t possibly have known what effect they could have on the person in the real world.
Now that he was intimately familiar with the process. Perhaps with that knowledge, the others would believe in him.
This time around, he could really make a difference.
That thought compelled him to test out his actions with something small, something that he hoped wouldn’t alter too much. Something that could, conveniently, settle an ache tugging at his heart.
At the end of the day, he didn’t find himself slinking down the school halls, under judgemental gazes and muttered words.
Instead, he walked, deliberately, toward the one room he knew he’d find her.
She was in her usual place, studying diligently. The old, aloof front of the Student Council President. His throat burned, overwhelmed, to see her.
He hadn’t learnt the fate of any of his friends after they’d been locked away in the Velvet Room. He didn’t like to think about it, either.
It wasn’t worth dwelling on. Now that he had a chance to avoid it.
Still, it would be painful, starting from square one, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to even properly meet her for weeks.
He had thought he could find joy in reliving their most precious moments. Confessing his feelings to her in Crossroads, their first date, the night they would spend together on Christmas Eve.
He had these things to look forward to reliving but wasn’t sure that he could hold out. Every urge within him to hold her close was surging toward the surface.
Perhaps it was a phantom sensation, spurred on by his memories, but Ren swore he could sense the faintest flicker of those blue flames, Johanna, resting dormant inside of her.
Was there no way he could expedite the process, without the risk of altering their paths too much?
It wouldn’t be easy. Ryuji and Ann weren’t particularly fond of Makoto. Still holding her partly responsible for atrocities Kamoshida had brought upon the school. Despite her, much like them, being a victim of the adult’s manipulation.
He’d have to settle for making small gestures, out of sight that couldn’t be traced back to him. With his dexterity, Ren was confident he could. This time, there would be less trial and error.
He knew exactly which words to use to fluster her, what places to trace his hands and lips to get her hot and bothered. He knew her hopes and aspirations even if, at this particular place and time, she had set them aside.
Realising that he had been standing in the doorway, and some of the other students were beginning to eye him suspiciously. Ren quickly shuffled toward a nearby shelf, pretending to examine the books on display.
Makoto’s gaze lifted, briefly, not pleased with the disturbance. Those vibrant red orbs flickered across the room before turning back to the page beneath her.
He studied her, thankful for the cover. If he was spotted watching her, a stranger, with such rapt attention and emotion, she would understandably be disturbed.
Her belongings were spread across the table, allowing little room for anyone else to join. Even with his charm, he sensed she’d have little patience for his company.
Still, Ren was confident, at least, that he was on her radar. The rumours of the delinquent transfer student were hard to miss.
He wondered if there was a way he could somehow capture her attention, even if briefly.
He remembered her claim to have most of the books library and wondered if he could pick a title that would maybe catch her eye.
Scanning the spines of the different hardbacks, one title jumped out to Ren.
The Illusory Poppess
Ren blinked, recalling having read it before. It was the biography of Pope Johanna, the namesake of Makoto’s persona. He wondered if the connection could rouse something or if she was completely shut off from that part of herself.
If nothing else, he hoped reading the story could help remind him how to seek forgiveness, atonement for where he had failed.
Ren retrieved the book from the shelf, bringing it to the front counter to check out.
Midway through taking notes, Makoto paused, her head lifting as she heard the title.
.
“This place is off limits you know.”
It was earlier than Ren had expected, but things were still unfolding as they had before. Even with the different steps he’d taken, Makoto, under the principal’s instruction, was now investigating them, suspecting that they were the Phantom Thieves.
Beside him, he felt Ryuji grit his teeth, ready to spit back. Instead, Ren lifted his hand, silencing his friend’s ire.
Makoto blinked, surprised to see Sakamoto adhering to someone. Perhaps the rumours about Amamiya’s reputation held weight.
Standing from his seat, Ren skulked deliberately toward her, a mischievous smirk lighting his features. Surprised, Makoto moved back slightly. Amamiya’s friends, Sakamoto and Takamaki were much more standoff-ish toward her.
Makoto had heard of his violent tendencies, and while there hadn’t been any offences during his time at Shujin, she was still worried there may be something sinister behind his expression. Her hands formed fists at her sides, just in case she needed to defend herself.
However, what she wasn’t prepared for was for Ayamiya to lower his head, invading her space.
“My apologies. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, Nijima-senpai. ”
Makoto shuddered as the breath spilt from between his lips, caressing her cheeks. It was warm and pleasant, despite the chill that danced along her spine.
Somehow, the act left a chink in her defences. Her instincts, the logical part of her knew that she should been unnerved by his actions, she should have pushed him away.
Yet, she stood frozen, perplexed and captivated by the way his eyes were fixed upon her, the ease with which he had approached her. He was a stranger. As far as she could recall, this was the first time they had spoken. Yet, there was an intimacy to how he regarded her, that bizarrely, didn’t feel misplaced.
She couldn’t make sense of the feelings he was evoking in her.
After a moment, Amamiya stood up straight, putting an appropriate distance between them once again. Makoto’s eyes narrowed, hoping her earlier bewilderment hadn’t shown in her face.
With a lazy flick of his hand, he turned towards the exit.
“We’ll be going now.”
As he spoke, the teasing line of his lips didn’t shift. He even had the nerve to wink at her. Lost again in his expression, Makoto felt a pleasant flutter in her stomach.
Catching herself, she grit her teeth, realising that her plans to confront the group and question them about the Phantom Thieves had been forgotten.
She had been tricked. A mistake on her part, in dismissing Amamiya as another delinquent like Sakamoto. It seemed he was more attuned than she gave him credit for.
He seemed to have picked up on her inexperience with romance and used that to his advantage, leaving her flustered. Any authority she could have hoped to wield in that situation had been lost.
The act had been so effortless that Makoto wondered if it was something else he’d had a habit for in his hometown; a womaniser who flirted with young women. She’d heard that girls their age would sometimes fall for rebellious or even dangerous men.
Still, in his case, she supposed she could understand. For all the concerning rumours around him, he was quite good-looking.
Wait Makoto faltered with that lone thought. Where did that come from?
“S- see that you do!” She exclaimed, with a dip of her head, trying desperately to hide the tinge colouring her cheeks.
The group, however, had already since departed.