Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was a cold winter’s night, only days after the start of the new year, when Ren found out Akechi was returning to town.

“The Shido estate has been bought out,” Futaba said apropos of nothing as Ren set a plate of snacks in front of her. His eyes flicked up. How Futaba came across such information when she was confined to her room the majority of waking hours, Ren would never understand. 

“Oh?” Ren said, pouring her another cup of tea. Considering how the baby had been sleeping the last few days, she would need it. Sumire was already asleep, exhausted from a long day of taking care of their newborn. If little Hana-chan woke again (which was almost guaranteed), it was Futaba's shift to take care of her now. Ren, ever the night-owl, was keeping his sister company late into the night.

“Yes. And you’ll never guess the new owner.” Futaba leaned forward conspiratorially. “It’s Admiral Nijima Sae.”

“Makoto’s sister?” Ren asked, the barest hint of surprise coloring his voice.

“The very same,” Futaba said, sipping her tea. The dark circles under her eyes weighed heavily. Ren worried for her well-being, but there was nothing to be done until the baby was sleeping more consistently through the night.

“Poor timing,” Ren muttered, pouring himself a cup.

Makoto had occasionally lamented never making amends with her sister, who had been away at sea for some time. Unfortunately Makoto and Haru had left the city several months ago, with no immediate plans to return.

“Isn’t it?” Futaba sighed. “She and her wife are moving in next month.” 

“Wife?” Ren inquired. Futaba perked up again.

“Yes, it seems she got married at sea. And you won’t believe this—her new wife is Takemi Tae. Well, Nijima Tae, now.”

“Doctor Takemi’s coming back? Huh.” He took a sip of his tea. Takemi had moved away a couple of years ago, saying she was joining the navy as a medic in order to try and get away from her bad reputation in Tokyo. Apparently she’d met Makoto’s sister out there. Good for her, Ren thought.

“Ugh, you could stand to act a bit more excited. This is big news!” Futaba whisper-scolded him, careful not to wake the baby.

“Oh heavens, I can’t believe it,” Ren said, deadpan.

“You’re no fun!” Futaba whined, a little smile escaping her despite their words. “Anyway, they’re bringing another captain with them. He’s fairly well-known, apparently. I've never heard of him, but I don't really follow military news.”

“Oh?” Ren said.

“Yes, some young war hero or something of the like,” Futaba continued. “Captain… Akashi? Akechi? Something like that.”

Ren froze. That—that couldn’t be right. Maybe he’d misheard.

“Akechi Goro?” Ren croaked.

“Yes! That’s it. Captain Akechi Goro. He’ll be staying with the Nijima family apparently, although I’m not sure for how long.”

Just then Hana-chan started crying again, and Futaba ran off to take care of her. Ren was left alone in the soft lamplight of living room. He did not move at first. From the other room, he could hear Futaba’s attempts at soothing and the subsiding wails of little Hana-chan.

Ren cleaned up the dishes and quietly ducked out of the house. As he walked the dark, silent streets of Tokyo, Ren a thought bubbled up in him which he was unable to suppress: Another month perhaps, and he may be walking here.

The Phantom Thieves had been disbanded for six months now, and with that, Ren’s friends scattered to the winds. They’d operated with little interference from the (frankly, in Ren's opinion, incompetent) local law enforcement during the last few years, but after thwarting Shido Masoyoshi, the Shogun had posted a generous reward for anyone with information on the identities of the Phantom Thieves. Everyone had agreed it was best to lie low for a while afterwards.

Ren busied himself the way he always had: Helping his friends. At least, the ones who remained in Tokyo. At the moment, he was staying with Sumire and Futaba in the Yoshizawa estate’s guest wing, helping out around the house while the two of them fussed over their newborn baby. 

Ren was doing fine, really. He was happy that all his friends were moving on with their lives and pursuing their dreams. He just wished everyone would stop asking what he was going to do next—as if he was supposed to know. 

The last seven years of his life, all Ren had thought about was preparing for the next heist. Every connection he made, every shift that he worked, everything he did was to advance the Thieves and their goals. And now that was over. 

What was he supposed to do? Get married, settle down and start a family? There was a time when such a thought appealed to him, but such times had long since passed. There was no one Ren could see himself spending the rest of his life with, and the only person he’d ever seriously considered—

Well, it didn’t matter now. Even if he was returning to Tokyo, Akechi had made his feelings towards Ren very clear the last time they spoke. And besides, they were surely too different by this point. Ren was certainly not the same person he’d been. Akechi could not be, either. There was even a chance that he wouldn’t remember Ren. It had been nearly eight years, after all. 

Eight years since that picturesque summer in Inaba, the last one before his disownment. Eight years since his whirlwind romance with a newly-minted naval officer on shore leave. 

Eight years since Ren had broken Akechi’s heart.

Nearly a month later, Ren woke to Morgana pawing at his face and the sound of a baby crying. He waited for a couple of minutes, but when the wails didn’t subside, he resigned himself to dealing with it. So much for sleeping in. 

Ren dressed quickly and padded over to the other bedroom. It appeared that Futaba was still dead to the world despite the noise, and Sumire was probably downstairs somewhere if she couldn’t hear the baby. So it fell to Ren to check on little Hana-chan.

After quickly changing and burping the baby with no change in volume, Ren set off to find Sumire. Ren descended the stairs carefully, not taking any risk of tripping and falling down the stairs with his baby niece. She was no longer wailing, but she was still clearly upset. She was definitely hungry, and likely missing her mothers. Ren followed the faint voices to the front of the home, where Sumire was speaking to someone excitedly. 

“–and I hear you’re married to the Sakura’s ward now,” a man was saying. The voice sounded familiar, but Ren could not place it.

“Oh yes, it’s been two years now! And our little Hana-chan is almost three months old,” Sumire replied cheerfully.

“Sumi?” Ren called out as he slid open the door to the front room, his eyes still trained on the baby. She scrunched up his nose at him. He scrunched his back, shaking his head at her until she giggled. Despite his tiredness, Ren felt a smile tug at his lips.

“Oh, Ren!” Sumire said. “I must have lost track of time chatting. I’ll take her, here. Have you met–”

Ren didn’t hear the rest of her sentence, because as he passed over the baby he caught a glimpse of Sumire’s guest. It was a wonder he didn’t drop Hana-chan in his shock. 

There, standing in the genkan of the Yoshizawa residence—his red eyes widened slightly with surprise—was Captain Akechi Goro.

How strange, Ren thought, that I had forgotten the sound of his voice until now. 

Ren broke eye-contact immediately, but the brief moment had been long enough to take in his new appearance. Akechi looked good; of course he did. The sea had treated him well. His brown hair was longer now, tied back elegantly. His skin seemed tanner, warmer than Ren remembered. And he’d grown more broad-shouldered, certainly when compared to Ren’s still-wiry frame. 

How long had Ren dreamed of this moment? How many years had he wondered what he would say to Akechi Goro, if only he had another chance? And now he couldn't even bring himself to look Akechi in the eye. He slouched, as if hunching his shoulders a bit would make him invisible to Akechi’s piercing stare. Ren felt the captain's gaze on him and directed his own to the floor, taking in Akechi’s outfit as he did. 

Akechi’s clothing was fashionable and well-tailored. Ren was suddenly very aware of his own bedhead and wrinkled clothing. He’d simply grabbed the first clean-ish clothes he found upon waking, having been too concerned about the crying baby to consider that maybe his ex-fiancé was waiting downstairs looking far more presentable. 

How long had it been? Should he speak? It felt like an eternity had passed in those seconds. 

“Amamiya-san,” Akechi said, finally. Ah, so Akechi remembered him after all. 

“It’s Sakura now, actually,” Ren responded reflexively, eyes still trained to the ground. He fiddled with his eyeglasses and wondered what expression Akechi was making now. Then again, would Ren even be able to decipher it?

“Oh, I hadn’t realized the two of you were acquainted!” Sumire said cheerfully. She did not seem to notice anything was wrong, too occupied with the baby. “Perhaps you can keep each other company while I go feed this little one.”

“Ah, that won’t be necessary, Yosh– Sakura-san. I merely meant to stop by and renew our acquaintance, now that I’ve returned to the city. I’ll be taking my leave now.” Akechi’s manner was pleasant, but stiff. Was that because of Ren’s presence? It must have been. The reopening of a long-healed wound couldn’t have been pleasurable surprise.

“Please, call me Sumire-chan. We’ve known each other for so long, surely there’s no need for such formalities between us. I trust we’ll see you again soon?”

A quick round of pleasantries and promises to see one another again, and then Akechi was gone. Sumire dashed off to feed the baby. And then Ren was alone. 

So he’d seen Akechi again. At least the worst was over now.

The worst was not over. From then on, Akechi was a part of their social circle. 

Sumire and Futaba had originally agreed to raise their family in Yongen-jaya. But Sumire had wanted to be close to her family during the pregnancy and right after the birth, so they’d moved in with the Yoshizawa’s in Kichijoji temporarily. Ren, not wanting to be the only one remaining in the neighborhood, had tagged along to help out with the baby (and to make sure Futaba was settling well in a new place). 

Sojiro wasn’t thrilled about it, but it wasn’t as if they were too far away for him to visit his grandchild. Besides, they’d be back in Yongen within the year. Ren didn’t mind it too much. Kichijoji wasn’t home to him, but at least there were always things to do and new people to meet. 

And Ren certainly met people. Sumire’s father, Yoshizawa Masato, was a well-connected merchant who prided himself on his many connections to people from all walks of life. And that meant he held many, many social gatherings.

The Yoshizawa estate was large enough that having a newborn in the home wasn’t a deterrent. The planning and hosting of such events typically fell to Sumire’s sister, Kasumi. Typically either Sumire or Futaba would elect to stay in the guest wing with the baby while the other attended. Ren, on the other hand, was typically roped into helping with the parties in some manner, making his attendance unavoidable.

Ren liked meeting people, but he was more partial to one-on-one socializing than parties. Perhaps it was the country boy in him, but large groups of people always put him off a bit. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to snub Yoshizawa-sama by hiding away in his room every evening (although he would have at least considered it if he’d known who tonight’s dinner guests would be). 

Yoshizawa-sama was apparently an old acquaintance of Akechi’s. He was thrilled to find out that Akechi was not only back in town, but much more rich and handsome than before. He’d insisted Akechi and the couple he was staying with come over for dinner at their earliest convenience. 

At least Ren was looking somewhat-presentable this time.

Ren knew he couldn’t avoid Akechi forever, but he had hope that there would at least be no questions of his prior acquaintance with the captain. He doubted Akechi would reveal anything of their youthful daliance—Ren had certainly never spoken of the matter to most of his friends, whether out of shame or embarrassment or a simple lack of desire to dredge up old pains—but in some ways that was worse. It was… unpleasant, the idea of being cast aside as if there had never been anything between them. Yes, it would be easier if such inquiries could be avoided altogether. 

Ren was so focused on this dilemma and preparing the night’s dinner that he nearly forgot about the other old friend coming to dinner tonight.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite errand boy,” a sultry voice from behind him purred into his ear. Ren didn’t flinch, which was fortunate considering he was carrying a tray upon which several of Yoshizawa-sama’s very expensive porcelain bowls were sat.

“Doctor Takemi,” Ren acknowledged without turning around.

“It’s Doctor Nijima now, actually,” she said teasingly, the smile evident in her voice.  

“Congratulations,” Ren said, continuing to set the table. He wasn’t a teenage boy anymore; it would be harder than that to get a rise out of him.

“Sakura-san!” Masato Yoshizawa called from the entryway. “I see you’ve already met Doctor Nijima. This is her wife, Admiral Nijima Sae, and their guest, Captain Akechi Goro. They’ve only recently returned to Tokyo after several years at sea.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, turning to bow in greeting after he finished his task. Akechi didn't spare him a single glance, instead changing the subject to remark on the tasteful decor of the room. 

Dinner was awkward. Ren was seated across from Admiral Nijima, which he was at first grateful for—until he realized that she clearly disliked him. Perhaps Akechi had revealed something to her, or perhaps she'd merely heard the rumors which never seemed to cease plaguing him. Ren figured it was best not to speak much. No one would consider this out of the ordinary, as Ren never spoke much on the best of days.

“My compliments to the chef,” Akechi said at one point. “The kenchin-jiru is excellent. Your staff must be exceptionally well-trained.” 

“Oh, the cook actually had the night off!” Kasumi responded. “Actually, Ren-kun prepared tonight’s meal.”

“Ah, I see!” Akechi said pleasantly. He ate slower after that, picking at his meal more carefully. Ren felt a stab of annoyance. What, did he think had Ren poisoned the food? 

“So, Sakura-kun. How is it you know my wife?” Admiral Nijima asked, interrupting Ren’s thoughts. Her eyes were narrowed and suspicious.

Ren was fairly certain that saying, “Your wife used to sell me dubiously-legal medicines in exchange for being her test subject,” was not the correct move here. Luckily he was saved from having to come up with a more reasonable answer by the doctor herself. 

“Oh, Ren-kun was my favorite little helper when I was running my clinic in Yongen-jaya. He’s quite good at first aid.” Doctor Takemi wiggled her fingers. “Dexterous hands.” 

Hm. Was Doctor Takemi intentionally riling up her wife? Almost certainly, he thought, looking at the doctor’s sly smirk. That explained her closeness earlier… To each their own, but Ren did wish she didn’t have to get him mixed up in the middle of it. 

“That sounds like Ren-kun!” Kasumi said cheerfully. She had either missed the innuendo or was choosing to ignore it. It was hard to say with Kasumi sometimes. “He’s worked about a hundred different odd-jobs, I swear it. He can never say no to anyone.”

Ren took a bite of his food, not bothering to dispute her characterization of him. Ren didn’t  consider himself as a terribly interesting topic of conversation. Hopefully the group would move on quickly.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sumire exclaimed. “I was meaning to ask, how is it that you know Captain Akechi?” 

No such luck. Ren hesitated, risking a glance over to where the captain was seated. Akechi only smiled the same blithe, charming smile he had been wearing all evening. Ren did not know what to feel at the sight.

“I believe I can answer that,” Akechi said pleasantly. “I spent a summer’s shore leave in his hometown, many years ago. To tell the truth, I was quite surprised to see him here in Tokyo.”

“Why, that would mean you’ve known him longer than we have! How funny. Honestly, I sometimes forget Ren hasn’t always lived in Tokyo,” Kasumi giggled. “We’ve known Ren since Sakura-san took him in. That was what, six years ago? Seven?” 

Yes, it had been seven and a half years since Ren’s parents had disowned him and a sympathetic family friend had sent him off to stay with Sojiro. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akechi continue to pick at his meal, showing no reaction. 

Ren wondered if Akechi was doing the math in his head and attempting to calculate the timeline of events. Or perhaps Akechi was not thinking of him at all, except to consider how he might avoid any future encounters with Ren. Ren did not know. He was surprised at how much he wished he did.

“Oh, something like that!” Masato confirmed. “I still remember the wild rumors people spouted back then. Who would have thought the ‘violent criminal’ coming to town would be the quiet gentlemen here!” He laughed boisterously. “I’m proud to call him family now, of course.”

“I see,” Admiral Nijima said, looking him straight in the eye. Ren met her gaze, but tried not to look as if he was challenging her. “I feel a bit left out being the only one with no connection to you, Sakura-san.”

“Oh, but aren’t you Makoto-chan’s sister?” Kasumi asked. 

“Yes,” Admiral Nijima said, surprised. “I wasn't aware you were acquainted.” 

“Well I don't know her terribly well, but Ren is quite close with her.” 

Admiral Nijima’s gaze swung back around to Ren, her eyes somehow now even more narrowed. Next to her, Doctor Nijima was wearing a little smirk. Well, at least someone here was being entertained. 

“Really? How do you know Makoto?” Admiral Nijima asked, her tone just short of demanding. Ah, more suspicion. Lovely. Well, it was nothing he wasn’t used to.

“We're sparring partners,” Ren said, choosing a half-truth.

“You practice jujutsu?”

“A bit.” Ren took another bite of rice and did not continue. 

Admiral Nijima huffed. If she wanted more information out of him, that was too bad for her. Ren didn’t volunteer personal information to anyone, much less military officials. 

“So then,” Doctor Nijima said to Sumire, saving Ren from another awkward line of questioning. He would have been grateful to her if only she hadn’t been the one to put him in this predicament in the first place. “I hear congratulations are in order for you two. How old is the baby now?”

“Oh, Hana-chan’s eleven weeks now! A little too young to join us for dinner, I’m afraid,” Sumire said. “Futaba is watching her right now.”

“Futaba-chan is here as well?” Doctor Nijima perked up. “I hope her health has improved. Who’s currently in charge of her treatment?”

“Hiraga Keisuke has been her doctor the last few years. Her condition has improved, but she is still quite sickly,” Sumire said with a sad smile. “That’s why Ren has been staying with us as of late, to help care for her and the baby.” 

“He’s really been such a help these past few months,” Kasumi interjected. “Father and I have been working quite a bit, so we haven’t been able to help out as much as we’d like.”

“He’s really the best brother-in-law one could ask for,” Sumire agreed.

The guests all looked a bit thrown at that. Even Akechi blinked, although he covered up his surprise quickly. 

“Wait, brother-in-law?” Admiral Nijima said, her eyes wide. “I was under the impression that you and Sakura-san here were…”

“Huh? Oh! No, no.” Sumire rushed to correct them, her cheeks growing redder by the second. “I’m married to Sakura Futaba. Ren’s sister.”

“Ah,” Akechi said, that irritatingly fake smile plastered onto his face. “I hope you’ll pardon the misunderstanding. I wasn’t aware that you had a sister.” He looked in Ren’s direction, but still didn’t quite meet his eyes. Still, it was the first time all night that Akechi had addressed him directly. Ren swallowed.

“Sakura-san took both of us in,” he said without further explanation.

“That’s Sakura Sojiro, Ren and Futaba’s adopted father,” Sumire explained. “Futaba and I have been married just over two years now. Ren is single.”

“Although I’m sure he could make someone very happy, if only he had any interest in marrying,” Kasumi said teasingly.

“Well! It's not too late for you to become part of the family. I still have one unmarried daughter!” Yoshizawa-sama joked. Ren winced internally.

“I thought I was already part of the family,” he redirected. 

“Oh, of course, of course!” Yoshizawa-sama laughed the matter off easily.

The conversation moved on quickly, with the topic thankfully moving away from Ren and his marriage prospects. After dinner had concluded, Ren prepared tea and sake for the table. No one at the table imbibed heavily, but the drinks left the everyone's demeanor warmer and their lips looser. Then, Yoshizawa asked if there was anything specific that brought the three guests back to Tokyo or if they were simply on shore leave. 

“We are in Tokyo for a specific reason, actually,” Admiral Nijima said, setting her cup down. “We’re investigating the Phantom Thieves.”

Chapter Text

“The Phantom Thieves? I suppose you must be after the Shogun’s boon then,” Yoshizawa-sama mused.

“Delivering justice is its own reward,” Admiral Nijima answered sharply. Doctor Nijima snorted quietly, hiding an amused look behind a sip of tea. Admiral Nijima gave her wife a side glance and exhaled through her nose slightly before continuing:

“...But I’ll admit that the promise of a reward doesn’t hurt. In any case, if you happen upon any information about the case, we would be very grateful if you brought them to us.”

“I will be sure to!” Yoshizawa-sama exclaimed. “But surely you know that the Phantom Thieves have not been heard from since they exposed the coup. It will be difficult to conduct any sort of investigation now, especially so long after their disappearance.”

“Nevertheless, we would be grateful for any information that you could provide, Yoshizawa-sama,” Akechi said pleasantly, as if they were talking about the weather or the latest fashion trends. “Neither Admiral Nijima nor I were in the city during the period when the Phantom Thieves were most active, so even your personal opinions on the matter would be helpful perspectives for our investigation.” 

“Yes,” Admiral Nijima agreed. “We’ve read the reports, so we’re quite familiar with their operational methods of collecting evidence against a target and presenting it in the form of a forged ‘confession note.’ But we’re less familiar with public opinion, and it would be helpful to know what to expect during our investigation. Please, don’t censor yourselves on our behalf. What do you all think of the Phantom Thieves? I know they’re quite popular with some. If nothing else, I would like to know why.”

Ren kept a cool head and assessed the situation calmly. This was not quite a worst-case scenario for him, although it was a near thing. Even with the evening’s distractions, it hadn’t escaped Ren that the people sitting across from him were military officials. He hadn’t been prepared to answer questions about the Phantom Thieves, but he wasn’t exactly surprised either. 

The person he was more concerned about was Sumire, the only one of the Yoshizawas who knew about the Phantom Thieves’s true identities. He risked a look to his left and saw that she had frozen, her eyes firmly trained on the cup in front of her. Perhaps a stranger would read it as awkwardness, but Ren read it as fear. Someone had to respond to the Admiral. Ren opened his mouth to speak. 

“Well,” Kasumi said, saving both he and Sumire, “I think that the Phantom Thieves have good intentions, but I can’t say that I fully agree with their methods. During the peak of their popularity, Sumire and I often felt that people were relying too much on the Phantom Thieves, rather than trying to help themselves.”

“Yes!” Sumire said, latching onto her sister’s answer. “It was very frustrating how often I would hear people say, ‘Oh, I hope the Phantom Thieves do something about this’ rather than taking the initiative themselves.”

Ren continued to sip his drink silently, paying close attention to the others as they spoke. He acted just as he had all night thus far, with little effort. It wasn’t until Akechi responded that he had to force his body to not tense up.

“I see,” Akechi said. “I won’t lie; as a member of the military, I do find it disturbing how much of the general populace has fallen under their spell. It certainly seems that people are more willing to turn to the Phantom Thieves than actual law enforcement, despite their illegal methods.”

“I have to agree,” Yoshizawa-sama said. “Regardless of whatever good intentions they may have, they are nevertheless criminals. I’ll do whatever I can to assist in your investigation, of course.” 

Yoshizawa-sama continued on, giving suggestions for where the two naval officers might begin their investigation. Ren understood this to be yet another of Yoshizawa-sama’s investments. If they did not succeed, it was at no cost to him and he would still be in the good graces of two ranking military officials. If they did succeed, then Yoshizawa-sama would have new connections to two people in the Shogun’s favor. He may even be able to claim partial credit.

At least, that’s what Yoshizawa-sama thought. The truth was that if Admiral Nijima and Captain Akechi actually discovered the identities of the Phantom Thieves, Yoshizawa-sama would likely be taken in for questioning himself. It was even possible that he would be arrested on grounds of harboring criminals, unless he could soundly prove that he’d had no knowledge of the matter. Sumire and Kasumi were similarly at risk.

Ren contemplated all this in silence, listening to the others continue giving their thoughts on the Phantom Thieves’ actions through the last few years. When the Phantom Thieves had been founded, Ren at least had the security of knowing that he was endangering no one’s life but his own (except for Ann and Ryuji, who had already been as much embroiled in the Kamoshida case as he was). Part of the reason they had ceased operations was that as their network grew, they were inevitably putting more and more people at risk—people who had not given their consent for any of this. The guilt was not a new feeling, but it ate at him nonetheless.

Ren would have been very happy to remain silent. Admiral Nijima did not allow this to happen.

“And what do you think, Sakura-san?” Admiral Nijima said.

Ren weighed his options quickly. He could lie and claim he didn’t believe in what the Phantom Thieves had done. But it would be easy to verify that wasn’t true. Ren had never gone around preaching the virtues of the Phantom Thieves, but he had never said anything negative about them in the past. In addition, he was known to be close with public supporters of the Thieves like Ryuji and Mishima. In the long term, claiming to oppose the Phantom Thieves would likely only draw more suspicion. It was probably best to claim apathy on the matter. 

Then Ren looked at Akechi, who seemed entirely disinterested in hearing his answer. He wasn’t even looking at Ren. Ren felt a strange warmth in his gut, like someone had blown on coals which he thought had long gone cold. For once, he spoke thoughtlessly.

“They do more than the police,” Ren said, still looking directly at Akechi. Akechi’s eyes snapped towards him. Their eyes met for the first time that night and although it was still the dead of winter, Ren suddenly felt as if he were standing in the middle of a summer thunderstorm.

“I see,” Admiral Nijima said, unbeknownst to the winds howling in Ren’s head. Ren tore his gaze away from Akechi’s. He looked at Admiral Nijima, who had only leaned forward with interest. “So you think it’s discontent with law enforcement fueling the popularity of the Phantom Thieves?” 

Ren could only bring himself to nod. 

“...Interesting,” Akechi said after a moment. Ren suppressed a shiver at the word. “It’s rather uncommon to hear such a strong acknowledgement. Tell me then, what would you do if they targeted someone close to you? A friend or sibling, for example. If a supposed ‘confession’ of their crimes suddenly appeared, would you not think it was the work of the Phantom Thieves?”

“What would you think?” Ren returned. 

Akechi was sitting across the table in the corner opposite to Ren, as far away as he could have possibly been sat. And yet in that moment, Ren lost sight of the other five people sitting at the table. It was if they were conversing alone, locked in yet another of their heated debates from all those years ago. 

“Ah, throwing the question back at me? Well, here’s my opinion on the matter,” Akechi smiled again, slightly sharper at the edges. Ren preferred it immediately and immensely. 

“The Phantom Thieves are dangerous. What they do cannot be considered justice. Perhaps in the beginning, they functioned similarly to an anonymous suggestion box, only giving law enforcement clues to investigate. But now, there are many who will take a ‘confession’ written by the Phantom Thieves as pure truth. In the minds of the people, they have superceded the court of law. If the Phantom Thieves declare one guilty, the general public will consider that person guilty. The accused party has no true recourse.”

Akechi picked up steam as he continued, like an actor growing more convinced of his own performance as the show went on. He had a way of calmly explaining his arguments which made anyone who believed otherwise look foolish. It was both enrapturing and infuriating. It always had been.

“Beyond that, it is well-known that their methods of obtaining their so-called ‘evidence’ involve breaking and entering, theft, bribery, assault, forgery… What gives them the right to break the law in the name of justice? Though their cause may be understandable, they are still subject to the law like anyone else. That’s why I believe they must be apprehended." 

And he punctuated this statement with another of his fake little smiles coated in false humility. 

What a load of bullshit, Ren thought.

Ren found himself furious. He could feel his heart pounding, the blood rushing to his neck. It was not only that Akechi’s argument was flawed in that it did not address Ren’s grievances with law enforcement. It was that, for just a moment, Ren knew that Akechi did not believe what he was saying. He felt fully convinced that he understood who Akechi was and that Akechi could not have genuinely believed such a ridiculous sentiment. At least, the Akechi of eight years ago would never have believed it. 

Then reality struck him, and Ren felt the anger splash out of him like a jug suddenly tipped over. He was aware, suddenly, of the other sets of eyes on Akechi and himself. And he was aware of the risk he was taking in openly challenging a military officer on this matter, which could only draw suspicion towards himself and the people close to him. 

This was not the Akechi of eight years ago, he reminded himself. Ren did not know him. Perhaps Akechi really did have faith in the justice system now. Or perhaps he did not, but his distrust in the Phantom Thieves was genuine. Who was Ren to say?

There may have been a world wherein he continued on arguing on the side of the Phantom Thieves—a world where he was younger, bolder, and had very little to lose. But Ren was not a child any longer. He was not so willing to put it all on the line in order to get a reaction out of a man who showed no fondness for him. It could only have been nostalgia which caused him to momentarily regress and respond as he might have at seventeen.

“Is the matter of such immediate importance?” Ren said, acting as if he had only been mulling over his response in the moments which had passed since Akechi had finished his speech. “There have been no reports of the Phantom Thieves in some months. Perhaps they have decided to cease their activities.”

“Perhaps,” Akechi said. He sounded almost disappointed at Ren’s redirection. “But perhaps not. After all, we have no way of knowing if or when they’ll return. It’s true that they haven’t announced any new activities in some time, but they have had periods of inactivity before. Between the Kaneshiro and Okumura cases, for example, they were not heard from for a period of six months.”

Ren resisted the urge to clench his jaw. That was the period they had spent investigating the death of Futaba’s mother. In the end, they had only been able to prove that it wasn’t Futaba’s fault. It was not until years later that they found the true culprit. Not that Akechi could possibly know any of this, but the fact that he had already done such thorough research was a concern. If there was one person in the world who Ren believed could uncover the truth, it was Akechi. 

Ren did not have to come up with a response, because at that Admiral Nijima cleared her throat and pointed out that it was getting late. The rest of the room seemed to come alive then, moving into a flurried performance of good night’s and thank you’s and please come again’s.

“Thank you so much for having us, Yoshizawa-sama,” Admiral Nijima said, bowing towards him as they got up to leave.

“Yes,” Akechi said, doing the same. “This has been such an enlightening evening.”

The Nijimas and Akechi did not immediately become regular dinner guests at the Yoshizawa household, much to Ren’s relief. Unfortunately they did frequently attend Masato-san’s larger gatherings, of which Ren had no way to avoid since he was typically responsible for roughly half of the food, drink, and entertainment. 

Kasumi had limited mobility in her legs as a result of a carriage accident several years prior. While she could typically get from room to room with only a cane, the hectic maneuverings of party management typically required the help of a couple of runners. The Yoshizawa family had servants of course, but as a guest in their household, Ren had a difficult time not volunteering his assistance whenever possible. 

In any case, he was grateful to have something to do during the Yoshizawa parties. Particularly when Akechi was in attendance, because over the next couple of weeks, it quickly became clear that Akechi was in the market for a spouse. 

And why shouldn’t he be? He was a single man in possession of a fortune—and he was certainly in high demand. Every time Ren glanced in his direction, Akechi was swarmed by a small crowd of enterprising young singles and parents eager to marry off their children to the famous naval captain, who was both as handsome and charming as he was rumored to be. 

Since that first dinner party, Akechi and Ren had not spoken beyond cordial greetings. As far as he could tell, Akechi was entirely apathetic towards him. Ren wished he could say he was grateful, but it only left a dull ache in his side, like a wound that had never healed right.

The Akechi Goro of Ren’s memories acted very differently from Captain Akechi Goro. At eighteen, Goro had been bitter, resentful, and above all, driven. He was sure that he was going to win his fortune at sea and return to Tokyo a war hero, where everyone who had once looked down on him would be filled with regret. Inaba was merely a brief stop on his way to glory. 

Captain Akechi Goro was… nice. Charming. That shouldn’t have been as surprising to Ren as it was. Akechi had always been nice, in a carefully-manufactured sort of way. He was less boyish now, but he still had the air of a benevolent prince. He carried himself in such a way that people felt graced by his mere presence. 

When they had first encountered each other as teens, Akechi had certainly been pleasant enough in front of polite company. But Ren had quickly found his sharper edges, goading him into all manner of competitions and debates. It hadn’t taken them long to open up to each other about their dreams, their fears, their resentments. Back then, Ren was confident that out of everyone in the world, there was no one who could have known Akechi better than he.

Ren wondered idly who would hold that title now. Admiral Nijima? Or perhaps the officer who invited Akechi to take shore leave in Inaba, Captain Shirogane? Or maybe there was no one at all who knew Akechi under that agreeable mask of his anymore.

Ren suddenly realized that he’d been staring at Akechi too long, lost in his thoughts. He ripped his gaze away, but it was too late. He’d been spotted—luckily not by Akechi, but by Ohya, which wasn’t much better. Across the room, Ohya raised an eyebrow at him. Ren hoped his face didn’t give anything away.

He managed to avoid Ohya for a few minutes by refilling the drink of an elderly woman and letting her gush to him about her late husband. But not even an old widow could hold off a person so relentless as Ohya forever. Eventually someone else showed up to pay their respects to the old woman and Ohya snagged Ren before he could make his way back to the kitchen.

Ohya Ichiko was one of Masato’s more wily informants. She was a terrible gossip, which typically made her a useful contact, but Ren had a sinking feeling that this conversation would not be very fun.

“Sakura-kun!” she cooed, her cheeks already flush with drunkenness. “So good to see you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

“Two weeks,” Ren said warily. 

“Really? It feels like it’s been longer. Say, I saw you glancing over at Captain Akechi a bit ago. The word around here is that the two of you have got some kind of history.” She whispered the word history as if it were some precious gem of a secret. 

“We were acquainted,” he responded with a shrug. 

“Acquainted, hm? That was it?” Ohya didn’t sound as if she believed him. 

“Yes. Acquainted,” Ren repeated himself. Ohya searched his eyes as if to see if he was hiding anything, but Ren kept his expression passive. Was it possible that she knew? No, surely not. No one in Tokyo knew what had passed between them except for the two of them. The ache of loneliness which accompanied the thought was a familiar pain, for Ren.

“Come on then, give me some details!” she pressed. “What was he like? Are you surprised he’s found such success as an officer? Has he changed much since he was younger?” 

Ah. So she didn’t know anything of their sordid past, she only wanted gossip about the neighborhood’s new most eligible bachelor. Ren could give that to her.

“Not really,” he said, answering her last question. “He was always ambitious.”

And that was the truth. Ren had always known Akechi to be fiercely driven. He’d believed in him and his abilities completely. No, it had never been Akechi that Ren doubted.

“So he hasn’t changed much, you would say?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Ren lied. 

Ohya looked at him with sudden seriousness. 

“Interesting,” Ohya mused. “He said much the opposite about you.” 

Ren blinked. Something twisted in his stomach. He wanted to know what Akechi had said about him, of course. But to ask would be to reveal too much. Ren had never appeared to care about the opinions of strangers (even very handsome ones) before, and he could not start now. 

He decided to change tactics. 

“Do you know if the Togo family has arrived yet?” he asked.

Ohya’s eyes sharpened. She knew when she was being baited.

“Oh, looking for Hifumi-chan?” Ohya smirked. So she was letting him get away—for now. With any luck, she was already drunk enough to forget about this conversation before she could follow-up. 

“And here I thought there wasn’t anything between you two!” Ohya cooed.

“We’re only friends,” Ren said, which was true.

“Only friends? I thought you two were ‘rivals’ or something of the like.” 

That wasn’t quite accurate. Hifumi was more of Ren’s shogi sensei than anything else; she only called him her “shogi rival” as a joke. She very obviously outclassed him. 

“Something like that,” Ren agreed. “I think I see her now, in fact. If you’ll excuse me.” And he departed. It was true that he had no romantic intentions towards Hifumi, but he wasn’t above letting Ohya think otherwise if it meant having a reason to flee this conversation.

As he approached the Togo family Ren thought he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Akechi watching him. But when he turned to look, Akechi was speaking to one of the many young women who were enamoured with him. It must have been paranoia—or wishful thinking, perhaps.

He greeted the Togo family politely, hoping to speak to Hifumi individually. They had no shogi board available to them now, but Ren and Hifumi both had sharp memories and had long-since perfected the art of playing shogi through simply narrating their moves to one another. It was one of Ren’s favorite ways to pass the time during these events, when there was no work for him to do.

But when Ren approached, Hifumi’s mother swiftly cut in. She knew of their habits and it seemed she had other plans for Hifumi’s evening. It was likely that she was set on wrangling an introduction to the new most eligible bachelor of the neighborhood, not letting her only daughter waste away in the corner chatting about shogi strategy with a man of unknown financial standing. 

With a polite smile, she asked if there would be any music played this evening. She and her daughter would love to hear some, Togo-sama insisted. As always, Ren obliged.

The Yoshizawa family was in possession of a thirteen-string koto which had belonged to the twins’ mother before her death. Kasumi and Sumire had both played growing up, but Sumire was now busy with the baby and Kasumi did not enjoy performing in front of large groups as much as she had before the accident. Besides that, she was busy hosting. As such, since Ren had moved in, it had often fallen to him to play the role of the musician at these events.

Ren knelt down next to the instrument, which the servants had set up on the tatami mats near the edge of the room. He had grown up playing the koto and had continued doing so while working for Sojiro, as entertainment for customers. This koto was of much higher quality than the one he was accustomed to playing at Sojiro’s teahouse and Ren relished his time with it. He placed the bridges carefully and slipped the three ceramic fingerpicks onto his right hand. Then, he began to play.

There were few luxuries Ren missed from his noble upbringing. This sound was one of them. 

There was nothing in the world like it—the crisp, clean notes of an instrument made by a master craftsman with only the finest of materials. Ren picked songs that were well-worn in his muscles, songs his hands could play with no intervention from the mind whatsoever. He let himself be lost in the sea of notes and tried not to think about how this was the first time Akechi had heard him play in eight years. Perhaps Akechi was looking at him now, wondering what appeal he’d ever seen in Ren’s age-worn, tired features. He did not risk looking up to witness such a scene.

Ren had loved attention when he was younger. He had adored both competition and performance, and any activity that was neither, he could somehow turn into both. It was perhaps why his few peers had both admired and resented him. It was perhaps why Akechi had once loved him.

As an adult, Ren was not so vain. He had long-since learned the double-edged sword of existing in the public eye. But it was nice sometimes, to be skilled at something and commended for it. He didn’t play anything too complex, and likely nothing the partygoers hadn’t heard before at some time or another. It was only a few classic tunes, executed well. Enough that people would remember there had been good music at the Yoshizawa party, and possibly even that he had been the one to play it. 

It was over all too quickly. Ren endured the polite clapping and helped the servants put away the instrument. As he reentered the room, he overheard a snippet of a conversation not meant for his ears.

“Does he often play?” Akechi’s voice asked. He asked the question with such offhanded interest, as if Ren was a stranger that only warranted a passing glance. 

“Only when someone requests it,” Kasumi answered. “Ren knows I am too busy to do it, and he loves to help. He is never tired of helping.”

That night, Ren walked into the storeroom to find it already lit, with Futaba already inside. She was rummaging through the shelves for a snack with one hand and bouncing a fussy Hana-chan with the other. It was late, and all the guests had long since left the property. 

“Hello,” Ren greeted as he entered the room. Futaba jumped and let out a little shriek. Hana-chan whined a bit and Futaba frantically started to rock her.

“Ren! Do not sneak up on me when I’m holding Hana! I only just got her to stop crying,” Futaba hissed. 

“Sorry,” Ren said with sincere apology. It wasn’t intentional; he was simply in the habit of walking silently. Futaba sighed. The fatigue of the last few months was clearly weighing on her.

“Here, could you hold her a bit while I locate something to eat?” she asked. Futaba attempted to hand her off, but sleepy little Hana didn’t seem to like being separated from her mother. She cried out, confused.

“Um, nevermind,” Futaba muttered. “How about you find me a snack, as recompense for what you’ve done to poor Hana and I.” 

Ren nodded solemnly. “I will do my best to atone.” Futaba snorted.

A companionable silence descended as Futaba consoled the baby and Ren pulled out the leftovers from that night’s gathering. He had also come to the storeroom in search of something to eat (although he was looking for something for Morgana rather than himself). As they moved to the table, Futaba spoke up again.

“So, how was the party?” she asked.

“Fine,” Ren said.

“Was Captain Akechi there again?” 

Futaba had met Akechi for the first time at a small party last week and seemed rather skeptical of the fervor overtaking their circle regarding the Captain. She was about as fond of law enforcement and military officials as Ren was, which was to say not at all. Ren replied that Akechi had indeed been there and Futaba huffed.

“Don’t care for him?” Ren asked.

“Well, I certainly don’t want him to marry into the family,” she said. Ren found this a little amusing, as he almost had been married into their family. Although Futaba was probably thinking of Kasumi as Akechi’s potential spousal candidate, not himself.

“He’s so…” she made a gesture with her free hand, “...shiny. It’s off-putting, don’t you think?”

Ren hummed in agreement. He did find Akechi’s outward persona disconcerting and he was relieved to find he was not the only one who thought so. 

“You weren’t close to him, were you?” Futaba asked. “You didn’t mention that you had known him before.”

And here was his chance to tell her all that had been plaguing him these last few weeks. But what good would it do, really? The whole matter was in the past, and Ren would really prefer for it to remain that way. In a few weeks they would return to Yongen-jaya anyway and he would no longer have to see his one-time fiancé on a regular basis. So really, there was no reason to bother Futaba, who was so exhausted from the burden of new motherhood, with his silly tale of teenage woe.

“...No,” Ren said. “We did not know each other well.” 

“I see. He seems nice enough but… I don’t know. One of the servants overheard him saying something. It didn’t sound very generous towards you,” Futaba muttered, a scowl pulling down at her lips.

“Oh?”

“Ohya asked if you had changed much, and he said you were ‘so altered he should not have known you again.’”

Ah. Ren felt a pang in his chest, but let nothing show on his face. 

Futaba watched him carefully, concern in her eyes. Even with no understanding of their history, it was clear that she understood this to be an insult. Based on his prior conversation with Ohya, he could assume that she did too. Both of them probably assumed it was in reference to Ren’s former status as the heir to a noble title. But the reality was more personal than that. 

There had been a time once when Akechi had called Ren the most interesting person he’d ever met. To hear this from an older boy who grew up in the city was the grandest compliment Ren had ever been given as a seventeen-year-old from the countryside.

Altered beyond his knowledge. Ren held this to mean that Akechi’s long-ago statement was no longer true. To him, Ren was no longer of any interest at all.

“Well, I have changed,” Ren said eventually. “I wasn’t much of a thief back then.”

A wicked grin spread across Futaba’s face, and she laughed. 

Chapter Text

Back when he first arrived in Tokyo, Ren thought of Akechi constantly. It was strange, living in your former lover’s hometown. Everywhere Ren went, he wondered if Akechi had been there—if he’d spoken to the old couple who ran this bookstore, if he had tried the roasted sweet potatoes from this cart, if he had seen the view of the sunrise from the docks near the fish market. It was a constant and unending refrain which played at the back of his mind.

To Ren’s knowledge, Akechi only returned to Tokyo once in the time Ren had lived there. Two years after Ren’s disownment, he was working at Sojiro’s teahouse when he heard a patron offhandedly mention that an old military sloop had limped into harbor the other day, with speculation that it would soon be decommissioned. It was the Robin. Akechi’s ship. 

Those months Akechi was in town, Ren found it impossible to forget about the possibility of encountering him. Akechi had risen through the ranks of the navy quickly and returned to Tokyo a decorated war hero. Everywhere Ren went, there was talk of the daring young officer who’d boldly taken charge of the ship after his captain’s untimely death, leading his crew to one unlikely victory after another. The whisper of him was waiting around every corner, if not the man himself.

Ren went once, in a fit of madness, to see the Robin in the harbor. It was just as worn out and broken up as the teahouse patron had described. It was a wonder that anyone had survived the open seas on it, much less gone to war. Ren stood there for a moment, silently paying his respects to the old thing. Then his eyes moved past the boat and landed on the man next to it. 

There on the dock stood a tall man with chestnut brown hair, gazing up at the ship as if he were saying goodbye to an old friend. A sharp inhale escaped Ren. Although he had not laid eyes on the man in two and a half years, Ren recognized him instantly. In the cacophony of feelings and memories which accompanied the sight, only one thought floated to the top of Ren’s mind, clear as the ringing of a bell: 

Akechi’s shoulders had grown broader.

Perhaps it was only a coincidence, what happened next. Perhaps Akechi had heard him thinking. Or perhaps, despite the distance between them, the rhythmic song of the waves lapping at the shore, and the ever-present whistling of the sea breeze, he had somehow heard Ren’s quiet gasp. 

It didn’t matter why. Just as he began to turn, Ren's mind came back to itself and he remembered where he was—when he was. He ducked behind a building and down a side street, disappearing into the city and out of Akechi’s life forever. Just like Akechi had asked him to.

Two months later, Akechi received a new commission. He was to captain a ship three times the size of his previous, with dozens of men under his command. He set sail a month later.

Ren told himself that he was relieved.

In the weeks following the party, Akechi continued treating Ren with the same detached coldness. Akechi spoke to him only when the rules of polite society required him to, and even then, rarely addressed him directly. The indifference stung, but it was not as if anything else could have been expected from Akechi under the circumstances.

It seemed that while Akechi was actively looking to marry, he was not in any sort of rush to do so. He entertained most suitors and their parents with equal grace, showing little favor to any of them. The nation was at peace (for now, at least) and Akechi had no obligation to return to sea in the near future. If he wanted, he could even take a permanent post at the naval headquarters or the academy. Why shouldn’t he take his time in selecting a spouse?

“What are a few months of consideration compared to a lifetime spent together?” Akechi said when Yoshizawa-sama asked him how soon he meant to wed. “My intention is only to make the best of choices for all parties involved, for I can think of nothing more harrowing than an unhappy marriage. If I am a fool, I shall be a fool indeed—for I have thought more on the subject than most men.” 

But for all his talk of discernment, it became clear over the next few weeks that Akechi’s two primary candidates for marriage seemed to be Kasumi and Hifumi, for he spent more time in conversation with the two and their families than any of the others—much to the distress of one of Ren’s closest friends, Sakamoto Ryuji. 

Ryuji had been pining after Kasumi for some years now. He had been too busy for courtship or marriage while the Phantom Thieves were in operation, but since their disbandment he had been working towards the idea with renewed vigor. Under Iwai’s supervision, he was taking on more complex and lucrative projects at the smithy with the intention of accruing the necessary capital for Yoshizawa-sama to approve of the marriage. But all this would only be relevant if Kasumi accepted his proposal, which had seemed less and less likely since Captain Akechi had entered the scene.

He fretted about this to Ren at a bar in Kichijoji on one of his rare afternoons off, which he had used to come calling at the Yoshizawa estate for Ren (with the hope of encountering Kasumi as well). Unfortunately Kasumi was out visiting a friend, so he and Ren ended up drinking alone. In truth, Ren would have preferred to meet closer to Ryuji’s side of town, but Ryuji insisted that his old leg injury did not affect him like it used to. Still, Ren worried.

“What, again?!” Ryuji groaned when he realized his pieces were surrounded. Ren laughed good-naturedly and began to reset the board, sorting the black pieces from the white. The owner of the bar was a particular fan of strategy games and had several sets out for patrons to use. Ryuji had been the one to suggest they take advantage of the go board in an effort to distract himself from his woes. But it seemed his woes were still ailing him, as he was playing even more poorly than usual. 

The two men began another game, but quickly decided to stop after it became clear that Ryuji was not going to begin playing any better, pushing the game to the side of their table in favor of waving down the proprietor for more drinks and food. It was the first warm evening of spring, and the owner was taking full advantage of this by leaving the shoji doors open to let in the breeze. The sun was dipping low in the sky, letting golden rays cast through the room. Despite the conversation topic, it was always an easy thing to relax around Ryuji. Ren felt the tension of the last few weeks melting away from his shoulders with each sip of sake.

Personally, Ren thought Kasumi’s affection for Ryuji was a solid thing. Although they had never made their courtship explicit (a funny thing, for two people typically so bold to be so shy in this manner), they certainly had an understanding. Kasumi was the daughter of a wealthy and well-connected merchant. Had she wanted to marry someone wealthy and powerful, she could have done so years ago. It was clear to Ren that she was waiting. If anything, Ryuji pulling away from her was a greater threat to their potential courtship than Akechi was. 

But Ren figured that Ryuji likely understood all this to some degree and was only in need of a listening ear for his troubles. He would offer his advice if Ryuji asked for it. 

“I just can’t understand what’s so special about him,” Ryuji grumbled loudly, his face flushed lightly from the alcohol. “I mean, just because he has a military rank and a couple of war stories—Ow!” Ryuji yelped as Ren pinched him roughly on the arm. 

Because of course at that moment, Ren’s eyes caught of a pair of broad shoulders entering the bar. It seemed Akechi hadn’t caught sight of them yet, and he would have preferred to keep it that way.

“That’s him,” Ren whispered.

“What, truly?” Ryuji asked, immediately turning to look. Despite his tension, Ren suppressed a laugh. Years of phantom thievery had still not taught Ryuji the art of subtlety. 

If Akechi noticed Ryuji obviously staring at him, he did not show it. He was in the midst of greeting two other people who were already seated near the entrance of the establishment. From their bearing, Ren assumed they were officers as well.

“That’s the man everyone in town is fawning over?” Ryuji grumbled. Ryuji was actually being fairly quiet, by his standards, but still Ren motioned for Ryuji to lower his voice. Akechi had a sharp ear for these things, Ren remembered. Ryuji complied, but his frown deepened. 

“He’s not even that handsome! Right?” Ryuji whispered angrily, looking to Ren for validation. 

Ah, well. There was no accounting for taste. Ren shrugged. Ryuji groaned and buried his head in his hands.

“I don’t have a chance, do I?” Ryuji said quietly, his voice muffled by the palms of his hands. He sighed and looked up at Ren. “I mean, look at him! He’s rich and famous and I’m only… a smith.”

“Kasumi doesn’t care about any of that,” Ren reminded him.

“I know that, it’s only… Well, it’s one thing to be acquainted or friends with people of–” Ryuji made a face, “–lower social standing and another to marry someone who will never be able to give you the same life you grew up living. Does that make sense?”

Ren made a contemplative noise. He thought about it for a moment. He didn’t feel that Ryuji’s fears were entirely unreasonable. After all, marriage was as much of a financial contract as it was a social one. But there was something Ryuji was missing.

“You should ask her,” Ren said.

“To marry me?” Ryuji exclaimed loudly. Someone from the next table looked over inquisitively. Ren did not acknowledge them. Such stares were only a consequence of spending time with Ryuji in public.

“About what she wants from a spouse,” Ren clarified. “But that too.” In the end, hers was the only opinion that would really matter. But Ryuji looked nervous at the idea.

“I really don’t know, Ren. What would you have done if some commoner had proposed to you, back when you were… you know,” he trailed off awkwardly. Ryuji was not just some commoner to Kasumi, although Ren doubted that was what Ryuji needed to hear at the moment.  

Ren glanced over at Akechi, who was still talking to the two men near the front. Akechi laughed politely. To Ren, who had seen Akechi laugh genuinely, it looked like a terribly restrained thing. 

“I was only a child back then,” Ren said, the tones of his voice nearly too quiet to hear. He knew there was a chance Akechi was listening, and yet he felt he had little choice but to tell Ryuji the truth. It was what he needed to hear. “But I like to imagine that I would have said yes. If I loved them.” 

Ryuji was not always the most delicate, but he could be an attentive friend when the moment called for it. He seemed to pick up on Ren’s melancholic mood and backtracked. 

“I apologize, I shouldn't have asked that. I know you don't like to speak of the past.” Ryuji sighed. “You're right. I'm being unfair to her. I'll try to speak to her soon,” he said, uncharacteristically quiet. Then in a louder voice: “Thank you. You always know what to say, old friend.” He leaned across the table and clasped Ren on the shoulder.

Seeing that Ryuji had had enough of his own woes for the night, Ren gently prodded the conversation towards Ryuji’s work. He was in the middle of regaling Ren with the tale of a strange customer with stranger requests when Ren noticed the two military men at the front had departed. Akechi was now making his way through the bar, greeting friendly faces. Once Ryuji finished telling his story, he stepped out to relieve himself. It was then that Akechi deigned to grace Ren with his presence.

“Captain,” Ren said, standing up to bow politely. He hoped this conversation would be brief.

“Sakura-san,” Akechi returned. “Apologies for not saying hello sooner. I had business to attend to, and it looked as though you were rather engrossed in conversation yourself.”

“I took no offense,” Ren said. In fact, he had rather hoped Akechi would not approach him at all. But it seemed Akechi felt obligated to at least acknowledge his presence, probably due to his connection with Yoshizawa Masato. It was that, or Akechi was simply torturing him, which Ren thought was equally likely.

An awkward silence fell upon them. This was one of Ren’s favorite tactics for getting out of unwanted conversations: simply remaining silent until the other person felt uncomfortable enough to leave. Ren thought it might have been working when the captain’s eyes landed on the go board at Ren’s table.  

“Ah, do you play?” Akechi asked, gesturing towards the go board where Ren and Ryuji’s half-finished game still sat. Ren’s eyes flicked to meet Akechi’s, who just smiled innocently. Ren kept his own face impassive and his posture relaxed. 

“Yes,” Ren responded after a moment. “Do you?” 

“Why, yes,” Akechi said lightly. Then after only the briefest of hesitations, “Perhaps you could join me for a game?” 

Again, Ren could not tell if Akechi was attempting to be polite or if this was some sort of elaborate revenge scheme. Perhaps it was both. Ren contemplated the best way to politely refuse. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryuji reentering the bar.

“I’m afraid I will have to decline. I promised my friend here that I’d accompany him home,” Ren said as Ryuji approached.

Ryuji, for all his lack of tact, did catch on quickly. “Huh? Oh! Yes, it’s getting dark out, and I have a bad leg, you see.” He gestured down at his mild limp as he walked towards them. “Dangerous to be walking alone.”

“I see,” Akechi said. Ren could not read his tone. “Well, I won’t keep you then. Although I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” he said, turning to Ryuji to introduce himself. “I’m Captain Akechi Goro.”

“Sakamoto Ryuji. I’m this gentleman’s closest friend,” Ryuji gestured towards Ren, a bit of sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘gentleman.’ Ren felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips in spite of himself.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Akechi said. Ren was skeptical of this.

“And you as well. Well, as I said, we had best be going now. Let me settle the bill,” Ryuji said. 

“Already done,” said Ren, who had paid the proprietor while Ryuji was out. 

“You really didn’t have to,” Ryuji sighed. “But I won’t complain about a free drink.” And then with only the briefest of pleasantries, they escaped from the bar. They had only walked a few steps out when they heard an eager voice calling out from the street.

“Sakura-kun! Oh, and Sakamoto as well.” It was Mishima Yuuki, an old informant of theirs. 

“Do you have a minute?” Mishima asked. He lowered his voice. “I have some updates for you.”

Ren and Ryuji glanced at each other. Ren nodded slightly. “Sure,” Ryuji said. 

Mishima eyed the bar behind them. “Oh, perhaps we could talk and play a game of—” 

“How about you walk with us?” Ryuji interrupted. Mishima blinked, confused, but allowed Ryuji to lead him away. Ren leaned in. 

“Officers,” he whispered. Mishima’s eyes widened. 

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Mishima whispered back urgently. “The naval officers that just arrived in town—they’re getting closer.”

Thus far, no one had ever come close to finding the true identity of the Phantom Thieves. Unfortunately that wasn’t because they had always operated in perfect secrecy. In truth, they had messed up plenty during the early years, especially before Makoto and Futaba joined. They were lucky that the local law enforcement was fairly incompetent and as a result, there had never been a large-scale investigation into their earliest cases. 

When the Thieves first started spreading the “confession notes,” people had been more interested in the content than the mysterious source of information. Most people assumed Kamoshida’s forged confession was written by an anonymous victim (which was true, to some extent). Madarame’s was assumed to be a copycat, not actually related to the first incident. The police hadn’t taken a real interest in the Phantom Thieves until they targeted Kaneshiro, and by then the Phantom Thieves were operating with much more finesse.

What worried Mishima was that Captain Akechi and Admiral Nijima had been questioning people involved in the original case, Kamoshida’s. Even if people’s memory of that time had grown hazy in the years since, it was likely that any investigation would lead right back to the three of them, who Kamoshida openly hated.

“They have no reason to suspect us more than any of his other students,” Ren assured Mishima, who hadn’t even been involved with the Thieves back when they first started. Even if they were somehow able to prove Ren and Ryuji’s involvement, there wouldn’t be anything tying them to later cases. Mishima nodded, his anxiety pacified for the moment.

Once he arrived home, Ren told Futaba everything. She had heard some of it already, but she’d been too busy to maintain her information network as usual, especially since she was away from Yongen-jaya where many of her contacts were located. 

“All we can do is lay low,” she muttered, repeating the mantra that Makoto had drilled into them months prior. She breathed deeply, the frustration plain on her face. Ren patted her back sympathetically. 

“I know that anything we do now will just draw more suspicion. But I hate this,” she lamented. “I hate not being able to do anything about it.” Ren agreed.

The Yoshizawa family’s annual hanami picnic was upon them the following week. Unfortunately for Ren, Kasumi elected to hold it in the early morning, just after sunrise. Ren had risen even earlier than most of the attendees in order to assist the staff with the preparation of food and refreshments. His only solace was that once the flower-viewing party was over, he’d have the rest of the day to himself.

By sunrise, the adrenaline of an early morning had faded and exhaustion was beginning to set in. He returned to his room to catch a precious few minutes of sleep before he was awoken again by Sumire, who had already dragged Futaba out of bed. Remembering the nightmare of his first encounter with Akechi that year, Ren managed to rouse himself just enough to look presentable. 

When he arrived at the picnic the staff had already done the bulk of setup. He moved to help, but Kawakami, the head servant, took one look at him and his tired eyes and shooed him off. Instead he did the rounds of required pleasantries among guests, valiantly ignored the way Akechi looked with cherry blossoms in his hair, and went to take a nap.

Ren's favorite sleeping spot in the park was on a dry sunny bank, behind a chest-high stone wall meant to keep people from falling into the river below. If he positioned himself right, no one would notice him unless they were looking directly over the wall. Although there was a nearby bench, it was fairly out of the way and people rarely stopped there. He was just settling into a comfortable position when he heard footsteps and a pair of voices approaching. 

"Yes, the weather today is lovely. Perfect for a flower viewing," a smooth, dulcet voice said. Of course, Ren could not have even a moment of peace. He resisted the urge to sigh. 

“Ah, a bench. Perhaps we could sit and enjoy the view for a moment?” Akechi said.

Ren still felt sleep tugging at his eyelids, but any hope of relaxing was gone now, carried off in the breeze with the sakura blossoms. Ren resigned himself to listening to Akechi’s conversation. It could have been worse. He had eavesdropped from far less comfortable positions.

“Thank you for walking with me, Akechi-san. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” That was Kasumi. So Akechi hadn’t been stopping just to enjoy the view; he was probably being considerate of how far Kasumi could walk without straining herself. 

“It’s no trouble at all, Yoshizawa-san. What did you wish to speak about?” Akechi asked, as polite as ever.

There was a brief moment of silence. Eyes shut, Ren imagined the two of them on the other side of the wall—Kasumi taking a long inhale to ready herself, Akechi patiently giving her his full attention. It was overwhelming, to be the sole occupant of that gaze. He felt an old ache thinking of the way Akechi had looked at him during that first dinner, when they’d disagreed about the Phantom Thieves. That feeling was one of many things Ren had forgotten in the intervening years.

"I have to be honest,” Kasumi said. “I have not told my father this, but there is already someone I intend to marry. I apologize if I’ve done anything to imply otherwise to you. I only meant to be friendly, but I fear my father may have jumped to conclusions and given you the wrong impression."

If Akechi was surprised, it didn’t show in his voice. "No apology is necessary, Yoshizawa-san,” he said evenly. “To be frank, I quite admire your brazenness. If I may be so bold as to inquire, is it Sakamoto you’re pursuing?” 

Ren felt a mild bout of nausea stirring within him. So Akechi had overheard their conversation in the bar.

“Why, yes!” Kasumi exclaimed. “How ever did you know?”

“I had the good fortune of meeting him just the other day. He’s… not the most subtle fellow, is he?” Akechi said. Ren bristled slightly with defensiveness for his friend, although he would be the first to say the same. Kasumi reacted with more enthusiasm.

“Did he say something about me?” Kasumi asked quickly. In his mind, Ren could see the blush rising on her face once she realized how eager she sounded. He had known her for many years now and never seen her so shy as when Ryuji was mentioned. He wondered how Akechi looked; if he was wearing a polite smile or an amused smirk as he witnessed the antics of young lovers.

“I’ll leave that conversation to you and Sakamoto,” Akechi laughed. “I don’t think he’s quite the prize your father was hoping for, but I wish you all the best nonetheless. I hope you’ll forgive my saying so. Coming from little means myself, l do commend that sort of loyalty. I’m impressed by your willingness to stand beside your desired partner, regardless of social standing or surety of the future. There is nothing worse a person can be than yielding and indecisive, impossible to depend on. You can never be sure of their opinion being durable; anyone may sway it. My first wish for all whom I am interested in, whether romantically or otherwise, is that they should be firm. Ah—I apologize. I have been rambling."

Despite the spring sun shining down on him, Ren felt his blood run cold as he listened. The pit in his stomach grew wider with each sentence that left Akechi’s mouth.

"That's quite alright, Akechi-san,” Kasumi laughed. The relief was clear in her voice. “I'm happy to hear that there is no misunderstanding between us! And it was quite interesting to hear your opinions on romance. I wonder, what do you think of the other matches in our circle? Futaba and Sumire, for example." 

"I’ll admit that they're an unexpected pair—both recalcitrant, and yet they seem to bring out a certain boldness in one another,” Akechi said thoughtfully. “What was their courtship like? You are quite close with the younger Sakura-san, are you not?" 

"Yes, I consider her a close friend. Although, I would have never seen her marriage with Sumire coming," Kasumi said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Really? I think they make quite a fetching pair." 

“Oh, of course! But—well, perhaps I shouldn't be telling you this, but you seem like the discrete sort—the truth is, a few years ago we all thought Sumire would be marrying Ren!" 

Ren’s breath caught. 

"Oh?" Akechi said after only the shortest pause. Was he surprised? Confused? Eight years ago Ren could have read a hundred thoughts from one word of Akechi's. Now, not even seeing his expression would have helped Ren to understand him. This stone wall was nothing compared to the gulf which stood between them.

"Yes, Sumire was quite taken with him back then, and he seemed fond of her in turn. That was my impression, at least. We were all so surprised when he declined her proposal," Kasumi continued, not seeming to notice Akechi's pause. 

"I can imagine, yes. It would have been quite the advantageous match for him,” Akechi murmured quietly, almost to himself. “When did this occur?" he asked. 

"This was six years ago, I believe. It wasn’t terribly long after Ren had arrived in town. Sumire and Futaba didn't begin courting until a couple of years later. As I recall, he claimed there was someone else. But I don't know if he was being truthful or if he only meant to turn her down gently. At the time I suspected he was referring to Hifumi, but it’s been so long and nothing has occurred. So it seems they really are only 'shogi rivals' or whatever the two of them call it.” Kasumi sighed. "I'm glad everything worked out the way it did, but I do worry about Ren sometimes. He really could make someone very happy." 

"Yes, quite," Akechi said distantly. He was probably having to concentrate very hard to not start monologuing about what a disappointing marriage prospect Ren had been in practice. “Thank you, Yoshizawa-san,” he said, seeming to come back to himself. “This conversation has been very enlightening. Perhaps it is time to return to the party now?”

The two walked off before Ren could hear more. Ren sat up, still feeling the weight of exhaustion but now too sick to his stomach to sleep. He pulled his knees to his chest. So Akechi did still think of him—as the antithesis of a good marriage prospect. And worse yet, he likely was now aware that Ren had still been carrying a torch for him back when Sumire had proposed, years after Ren had broken their engagement. 

Ren sat there for several moments, waiting to see if the nausea of utter humiliation would subside. It did not. Then he stood up, brushed himself off, and went to reassure Ryuji of Kasumi’s affection for him. 

Only later that night did he give voice to his feelings, when Morgana slipped into his room with a quiet meow. Morgana, angel that he was, settled into Ren’s lap immediately. In the dark quiet, Ren held Morgana close and whispered into his fur, “He hates me, Mona. He hates me still.”