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Six Years After Emma Was Shut Down
It was shockingly easy to miss the metaverse.
No, no that wouldn’t be an accurate thing to say at all. It was far too broad. The metaverse was the fulcrum for what he missed. The fantastical, unexplainable, unreal phenomena that had given Ren what was oh so very hard not to consider the best years of his life. He had gone from being a nobody - a nobody from nowhere - to one of the most talked-about people in Japan, even if that was under a pseudonym. Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves. It felt good to change hearts. Right wrongs. Seek justice.
Guiltily, Ren had slowly begun to fear that he was more superficial than he had realised. That the real reason he enjoyed his years as a Phantom Thief was because it made him someone. He didn’t even hate the reputation he had at the start of his time, way back when he was still in Shujin, because being a dangerous criminal was still more appealing than being a statistic.
“We’re a few minutes away, Mr Amamiya,” his driver spoke through the divider.
Ren looked at his watch. They were making good time. Better than expected. “Thank you, Jiro. Will you be the one picking me up after this meeting, if I need it?”
“Yes, sir. I cleared my schedule when I heard you’d be landing.”
The national Diet came into view. It was difficult to remember precisely what Shido’s palace looked like, at this point. It was much darker, too, as night quickly approached. A combination of time, boredom, and distraction had blurred his mind. It had blurred a lot of things. Most of the time Ren was in Tokyo he wasn’t able to visit Leblanc. Renting a hotel was more pragmatic. He spent most of his time in Sendai, now. He fell in love with the Mori no Miyako when that affair with Ichinose and Emma went down. Ironically enough, he saw the doctor and Sophie more than he got to see most of his old friends anymore. Mother and daughter both worked for him, after all.
Ren was able to enter the Diet unopposed. He wasn’t an infrequent sight here. Ren lacked the will to go into politics himself, but his company was one of the largest financial backers behind Yoshida’s campaign. All strictly above board, of course. Ren was the only one of the Thieves who had ever really focused on collecting treasures and artefacts from the metaverse. Iwai’s connections turned it into a fairly profitable endeavor. Ren was useless with finance, but he had the good fortune with striking up a conversation with Haru’s CFO at an event. Ex-CFO. Takeru worked for him, now.
The two were able to spin this money into a broad investment company that specialised in nothing in particular. Sendai Capital, after several years, had come to hold assets in a great deal from real estate, to stocks, to charities, to shipping. It wasn’t a name anyone would be able to recognise, but it was profitable. Of course, being based in Sendai, that only made things harder to remain in contact with everyone else.
Ryuji and Ann had gotten into travelling. They did a lot of work in America and Australia. Ren was reasonably sure they were going to fly back to Tokyo from… St Petersberg, Tampa Bay, if he remembered correctly. It had been a long time since they spoke. Yusuke had moved into Leblanc and taken the attic. Ren was pretty sure that Yusuke and Futaba weren’t dating, but he was equally sure that they’d never date anyone. They seemed happy enough. Makoto had pivoted into Law, Haru had committed herself fully to her company, Morgana was… he was somewhere. Probably with Futaba. Ren didn’t know. He was very much out of the loop.
“Representative Yoshida is expecting you,” a young woman smiled at him. “He asked that I take you to his office. He will join you when he finishes his meeting with the minister.”
“Sure,” Ren smiled politely. He felt guilty for not remembering her name.
Yoshida was the companion he still had the most contact with. They met frequently at charities and rallies. Ren and Yoshida had what could very much be described as a productive relationship. Quite productive. Ren wondered when he had given up on his idealised past. The yearning never fully went away, of course, but his behaviour had changed. Ren was a working man. A company man. His week was full of nothing but meetings. Sure, many of them took place in nice places, but from dawn to dusk he was always working.
There wasn’t much else he could do. Ren couldn’t exactly put Phantom Thief on his resume. He was fortunate enough to have put Sendai Capital together. Ren didn’t want for anything material. All in all, he lived a good life. A very good life. To lament at what might’ve been when he already achieved the best possible scenario - it was almost an offensive thought. Maybe it was loneliness. That was the thought he usually pushed away until there was a bottle present, which was a rare occasion in and of itself due to his schedule.
“Ren, old friend,” Yoshida burst into the room with a warm smile. “It is good to see you.”
“I could say the same,” Ren shook his hand. “It’s been too long since I was last in Tokyo.”
Yoshida placed a hand around Ren’s shoulder and shook him affectionately. “I am glad this city continues to draw you back. Perhaps one day you will return more permanently. I hear you have a new office under construction? Dare I get my hopes up?”
He laughed. “Sorry, Tora, that’s for our new branch. I won’t be running it myself. It’ll be one of our VPs, probably.”
“A shame, but I will wear you down eventually,” the other man chuckled goodnaturedly with the raise of a finger. “I’ve been here since before the sun came up. Would you join an old man for a drink?”
“Are you kidding me?” Ren lifted his brow as his friend led him towards the elevator. “I’ve been dealing with the Kirijo Group for nearly a month. A drink is exactly what I need.”
A drink, of course, meant an hour long conversation with an environmental committee in the lobby, that turned into a dinner with the Minister for Internal Affairs and Communications, then an impromptu conversation on the street with a small group of college students, before they finally made their way to a dimly lit bar somewhere one station off from Yongen-Jaya. Ren was used to it. The life of a politician and the life of an executive were not all that different. It was composed of entirely too much talking and not enough doing.
“The last time we spoke,” Yoshida slurred, “you were seeing somebody, back in Sendai.”
“If you can call it that,” he snorted. It was difficult to date with a life as busy as his.
The representative rumbled unhappily. “It would be nice to hear good news every once in a while.”
Ren lifted his hands in mock offence. “I bring you plenty.”
“All work,” he accused.
“And when will Representative Yoshida find himself a wife?” he pushed right back.
“Don’t you turn this on me,” Yoshida brought his hand down on the counter in a cutting gesture. “I am married to the nation. Even if I were not, love is a young man’s game. But you-” he swung his crystal glass in a messy arc as Ren tried not to laugh, “you have time. You’re a good man. Money is no issue. You’re supposed to learn from me, not copy.”
Ren waved him off dismissively. “I’m just as busy as you are, Tora. Time is the one thing I can’t seem to find enough of.”
“The curse of success,” Yoshida shook his head. “It is a tragic thing.” He told the bartender to leave the bottle. Ren had already contacted the bar. Yoshida always tried to pay the tab even though Ren had so much more money.
He had to get creative to avoid being tricked like he was last time. “It’s not all bad.”
“No of course not,” his friend grumbled. “It just pains this old man to see you tread the same lonely path.”
“I’m not one of your constituents, you can turn off the campaign voice,” Ren rolled his eyes.
Yoshida spread his arms. “Look around us. Look at how many tired faces there are, desperate to escape their woes, their lives. It would be a waste for you to spend this night at my side.”
They’d had this conversation a thousand times. “I didn’t fly to Tokyo to lose my nights with strangers, Tora.”
“You are forcing me into a corner,” he accused. “Fine. I will back off.”
“Thank you,” Ren relaxed.
“But only if you agree to go on a date with my niece."
Ren closed his eyes and clicked his tongue. “This is the last time I come to this city.”
“I am serious,” Yoshida hit the counter again. “I will not let you make the same mistakes I once did. Find yourself a partner before it is too late.”
Ren wiped a hand across his face. He looked across the bar. “Fine. I’ll approach one person. One.” Nobody caught his eye. “Will that get you off my back?”
The older man seemed entirely too pleased with himself. “For now,” he agreed.
Ren pinched his brow. “Great.” Most people in the bar had come in groups of two to four. The Southern Cross was hidden. Not well-known. It prided itself on being on the downlow. Ren never knew it existed until Yoshida dragged him here after he won his first election post-Shido. “I’m pulling my donations.”
“Go, go!” Yoshida boomed. “You’re too young to waste nights drinking with me.” The encouragement felt like a slap in the face, since the politician was arguably one of Ren’s best friends. Was his life really that sad?
He sighed and walked away from his drinking buddy. There really weren’t that many patrons here on their own, and half of them were men. The lighting was dim enough that it was a struggle to make out faces. For all he knew the few approachable women were married, or had boyfriends, or hell, maybe they’d just find him ugly. Ren hoped it was the last one. That would make it easier to get Yoshida off his back.
One girl looked far too young for him. Ren turned twenty-six next month, he wasn’t about to go after a girl who didn’t even look like she could legally be in here. The next girl was smoking in the corner. Ren hated the smell. By the time he glanced at the fourth he realised just how much he was trying to talk himself out of this. Stunts like this were the only reason he still called his friend No-Good Tora. Deciding that it was better to just try and be done with it so he could go back to enjoying his night, Ren moved towards the next woman on her own.
From behind he could only make out the dark dress and darker hair that reached her shoulders. Ren chewed the inside of his lip irritably as he approached, glass in hand - his other fiddled with his tie’s knot. Liquid courage was all that kept him moving. Shame didn’t bother him, just inconvenience. The absolute worst-case scenario was that he got stuck in a long conversation with a woman who was actually interested. Ren nearly scowled at the thought. He’d struck down three would-be gods and now he was being pressured into talking to women by a fifty-year old man who had been single since college.
“Sorry to bother you,” he stepped into their view. “Really. I-” he frowned. The face was exceptionally familiar. “Doc?”
Takemi’s expression shifted from annoyance to fondness instantly. “Ren?” Her hair was a natural black. Longer. Her wardrobe looked different. Her makeup was more subdued. Takemi looked tired. Content, maybe - he hoped - though she looked slightly more resigned than he had left her. But what did Ren know? He’d been gone for years.
He barked a laugh. “It’s been ages, how’ve you been? Sorry, can I sit?”
The doctor gestured lazily with her brandy. “Be my guest. Maybe you being here will keep the others away,” she snorted. “I’ve been well. Bored, but well.”
“Clinic’s doing alright?” he leant back into his seat and did his very best to ignore Yoshida’s glances.
“I had to hire some help.” Her tone indicated it wasn’t something she was happy about. “Good for business. Good for my patients.” But not good for her.
A smirk crept onto his face. “You’re going mad, aren’t you.”
The reply was coy. “You have no idea.” She uncrossed her legs and leant forwards. “Enough about my boring life. What about you? It’s been years since you came in for a checkup.”
“Don’t worry,” Ren flashed a charismatic grin. Semi-charismatic. He realised he was losing his touch. “I haven’t been cheating on you with any other doctors.” He thought that was an amusing answer.
Her unimpressed look said otherwise. “You’ve gone all this time without proper consultation.”
Ren had made enough deals to know when he needed to shift the direction of a conversation. “I’m a busy man,” he shrugged with faux bravado. “Running a business is hard work. Sorry if I ever knocked it.”
“I always assumed you’d be working at that cafe until the day you died,” Takemi took a large swig from her glass.
Ren matched her. “Wasn’t the same with everyone doing their own thing. I was smart with my money while at Shujin and I’d met a few of the right people so I said what the hell - let’s try something new.”
“Do you enjoy it?” Takemi pushed.
Sometimes. “There’s good days and bad days.”
“Then you really do understand, don’t you,” she chuckled.
“More than I’d like,” he finished his glass. Hers appeared close to empty too. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“You’ve gotten confident,” Takemi stated wryly. “Sure. Why not?” The bartender nodded when Ren waved at him. He assumed the man would bring them more of the same. “Do you normally spend your nights approaching random women at bars across Tokyo?”
Ren barked another harsh laugh. “God no. I’m here with a friend who won’t let me know peace until I’ve tried to meet someone,” he loosely threw a hand towards Yoshida. “Do me a favour and pretend like I’m moderately interesting. You’re buying me months here.”
Takemi laughed at that. “Alright. Sure,” she shifted in her seat. “You’re funnier than the usual creeps.”
“I’d hope so,” Ren put on a frown. “Not a comparison I’m thrilled to hear.”
“You approached me,” she reminded him with a mocking lilt. “That means I get to make whatever comments I want.”
He threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. Tonight’s really not my night, is it?”
“Now you’re the one being offensive.” Her eyes danced as the bartender left their drinks at their table.
Ren resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Is your clinic still in Yongen-Jaya?”
“You say that as if you don’t come here anymore.”
“I live in Sendai, actually,” he stated neutrally. “Only really come down here for work. This is the first time I’ve been able to go out in Tokyo in over a year and Yoshida’s got me doing this. No offence,” he smirked.
Takemi chuckled. “None taken. You’ve already made tonight less depressing than it usually is.”
“I’ll drink to that.” They clinked glasses and drank from their crystal. Idle chatter passed the time as morning began to approach. It was nice to catch up with someone without any real stress or importance behind the interaction. Just a conversation. A normal conversation. Ren hadn’t realised how long it had been since he had one. Maybe that was just the whiskey. It was easy to forget how well you got along with some people. Ren wondered how many others he’d just fallen out of touch with over the years. If he wasn’t eight standards in that might have been a sobering thought.
Takemi set another empty glass down with a pleasant sigh. “This has been fun, but I’m supposed to open up shop tomorrow.” She gave him a fond look as she stood. “I’m glad you chose my table to harass.”
“Thanks for helping get Tora off my back,” Ren nodded appreciatively. “And for a normal night. I don’t get enough of those.”
Takemi placed a hand on his chest and leant in close. “Believe me, the pleasure’s all mine.” She kissed his temple and stood with a smirk. “Come by the clinic some day. I miss my favourite guinea pig.” She sauntered off leaving him alone at a table of empty glass. Ren shook his head.
“I will not lie to you, my friend,” Yoshida stumbled into the now-vacant seat, “I never thought for a second you’d go that long. I know I’m drunk but she really seemed to like you,” the politician slapped him on the back.
Ren owed Takemi big time. He resolved to swing by the clinic tomorrow. He’d make time. “Are you happy?” Ren lifted his brow at his friend.
“Absolutely,” Yoshida guffawed. “Lets take the train to Shibuya. I’ll buy us some beef bowls. My treat.”
It took two days for Ren to pinpoint a hole in his schedule.
All he had to do was get through yet one more lunch. “You’re close with Yoshida,” Assistant Director Moriyama wagged a finger. “You should know that the SIU is at odds with Public Security. We were on opposite sides during the Shido fiasco and any hope of a positive relationship between us was gutted after Konoe blew what figments of a truce we had all to hell.”
“I’ve seen firsthand what both of your organisations are capable of, believe me,” Ren didn’t smile.
Moriyama snorted. “My superior’s predecessor was a fool to trust Shido. Still, I understand the implicit threat in your words.” He roughly sliced at steak worth more than his outfit. “That both my agency and Kaburagi’s failed at taking you down is enough reason for me to sit down with you.” He took a mouthful and chewed on it. “Some of us weren’t high enough to be prosecuted but still high enough to have access to everything that went down. You’re worse than teflon. Nothing sticks, eh?”
This man reminded Ren of Akechi. Parts of him, at least. The arrogance was certainly there, as was the cunning, but Moriyama’s maliciousness was completely different to his old friend. Akechi took joy in what he did, that much is true, but it was a forced sort of joy. Akechi voluntarily turned himself into a monster. Moriyama never had to make that choice, because he was scum from the beginning. “This latest surveillance package,” Ren ignored the previous comments. “I’m not a bureaucrat. I haven’t even opened the document Yoshida sent me, but he thinks it's a problem. He wants it stopped.”
“SIU doesn’t control policy,” Moriyama stated bluntly.
“Maybe. The director has a lot of sway with the Minister of Justice, though.” The steak was undercooked. Ren stopped trying to eat it. “I’d consider it a personal favour if you put in a word with your boss and had him try to convince the minister to oppose this package.”
Moriyama chuckled as he dabbed his mouth with a serviette. “That’d kill it. Especially if you’ve got PubSec going against it too.”
There was an implicit question in that statement. Ren had a meeting with the current Commissioner General tomorrow afternoon. Zengichi was kind enough to help arrange it. “That’s the plan.”
The assistant director ran fingers through his mustache. “Sure. I’ll see what I can do. I’m smart enough to know it's better to be in your good books than the opposite. Some of us remember what went down in the Diet in ’16. Konoe in Osaka, 2017, too. I’ve got no idea how you Thieves work and I’m happy to keep it that way.”
That worked for Ren. “Thank you.”
“‘Course,” he bounced a finger in the air. “I might need a favour too, some day. I’m hoping you’ll remember this, if it ever comes to that.”
And there was the worst part about Ren’s new life. He was a power broker. He had money and influence. It was easy enough to levy that to support people like Yoshida who genuinely wanted to do good, people Ren trusted and had great relationships with. Ren made deals. Backroom deals. He didn’t feel good about them all. He had started to wonder when the line blurred. When did he cross the line into the same territory the men he fought to take down operated in? Konoe thought he was doing the right thing. Shido, for all his ego, fundamentally believed with all his being that only he could save Japan.
How was Ren any different? He didn’t want to be the hero himself anymore, sure, but he still had forged himself into an arbiter that propelled other men forwards, men who functionally fulfilled the exact same role. If anything he was more dishonest than Shido and Konoe. They at least openly embraced their desire for control. Ren hid from it by hiding in the shadows. Like a thief. His life was eating at him. Gnawing at his psyche every time he shook hands or passed money or signed a document.
Ren looked at his watch. “Sure. You know how to contact me.” He stood up. Moriyama let him go. Technically there was another meeting he needed to handle before he reached his free slot. It was a half-hour endeavor. Ren messaged his assistant and told her to cancel it.
Takemi didn’t look up at Ren as he closed the door to her office. “You don’t waste much time, do you?” She was in a more familiar white coat, though what sat beneath was more professional than he recalled. Her hair was long enough that it had to be loosely bunched up.
“I was in the area,” he shrugged. He was in the area and was going to punch someone if he had to do another goddamn meeting promising some stuck up bureaucrat some form of quid pro quo.
“Sit,” she waved at that uncomfortable reclined ‘chair’ that seemed to be in every doctor’s office.
“I thought you were joking when you said I’d get a checkup,” Ren frowned.
Takemi gave him an unimpressed look. “You need one. More importantly, it's been weeks since I’ve had a patient. I’ve been stuck doing administrative work that never seems to go away.” Ren was intimately familiar with that. “Suck it up, guinea pig. This checkup is more for me than it is for you.”
“Alright, doc,” he obliged. It beat going back to the rest of his day. “Busy?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Takemi drawled. “I haven’t left my office since I got here.”
“You weren’t kidding last night, were you?”
The doctor pushed herself away from her desk and began running him through the usual procedures. “I’d rather not talk about work, if that’s alright. That’s all my life is these days.”
“Fair enough,” Ren nodded before risking overstepping. “Not much else to our lives though, is there.”
Takemi made a nonverbal noise of agreement. “Depressing, isn’t it?”
“Say you get home early. 9pm, to pick a random number.” That got a smile out of her. “Let’s also say you still have the energy to do something for yourself. Something interesting,” he clarified, “not a long bath or a walk in the park. What would that thing be?”
“We’re rotting away, aren’t we?” she sighed. Their eyes met. They shared a chuckle. “I haven’t had the time or energy to read in years. My backlog is terrifying.” She swapped medical instruments and pulled his shirt up without asking before pushing something metal against his chest. “I go to the bar every now and then. Better to drown myself in the noise and the bottle there than home alone.”
Ren smirked. “The way this is going my answer isn’t going to seem as sad as I thought it was.”
Takemi flicked him in the head. A fair reaction. “I watch travel documentaries.” He lifted his brow. “I know I’ll never get to roam the world, but it’s nice to imagine.”
“Where’d you go, if you could?” he pushed.
She clicked her tongue. “Australia, maybe. Uruguay. Croatia. Somewhere with nice beaches.”
“You should give Okinawa a look,” Ren offered. “Beautiful place.”
“You’ve been?”
He nodded. “For a day or two. I liked it.” Ren hoped he could visit again. It had been a while since he thought about that.
Takemi placed the device down neatly in its place. “You’re in much better shame than last time I saw you.”
“Funny what happens when you’re not being drugged and beaten by the SIU,” Ren jived without thinking. From the look on her face, the joke didn’t land. “It’s nice that you think about traveling,” he tried to segue. “The way I’m going I won’t know what I want until I’m fifty.”
“You’ve got nothing at all?” He shrugged. “Come on. Everyone has a bucketlist.”
“Does that include you?” Takemi returned the shrug. Ren exhaled and laid down across the stiff medical bed, crossing his arms and staring at the roof. “I like fireworks. I want to go to America for the 4th of July. I want to go somewhere that goes over the top with it. You?” he turned his head back to look at her.
Takemi pursed her lips together. “I want to go to Montevideo, leave all my electronics behind, and just live there for a few weeks.”
“There’s this hidden bar in Osaka. The photos are amazing but I can’t find out how to get there,” Ren rumbled.
“The Mayan ruins,” she leant into her chair.
“Lapland.”
“A real temple.”
“Skydiving.”
“A concert in Miami.”
“To watch an illegal race,” he smirked.
“To go to a ball in something over-the-top,” she smirked back.
Ren lifted his brow. “Really.”
Her eyes grew stern. “Really.”
It was silly, Ren knew, to go down the path he was going down. He was enjoying himself too much and was making the same mistake he made every single time. He was going too far, and yet, he kept going, because Ren never knew when to hit the brakes. It had brought the Phantom Theives as far as it did. It had made and cost him fortunes. It had given him everything and ruined his life. “I could make that happen.”
“Make what happen?” Takemi gave him a wry look.
“All of it,” Ren sat himself up, “but I was referring to the ball. There’s a fundraising event I’ve been invited to, tomorrow night. Usually I’d drag my secretary or assistant with me but I can tell they both hate it as much as I do.”
She uncrossed her legs and recrossed the other way. “What exactly are you saying, Ren?”
“I’m saying I’m at my breaking point and I want to enjoy myself,” he stood, placing his hands in his pockets. “I’ll cover the costs of your dress, makeup, hair, whatever you need. I’ll send you the details. It’s a masquerade ball. Take a few hours off tomorrow. I’ll swing round to pick you up around seven.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Takemi shook her head, though a chuckle succeeded in escaping her lips. “I never would have thought we’d end up here.”
“Me neither,” Ren replied honestly, “but I’m tired of slogging my way through life. If I don’t take what few opportunities I have to enjoy myself then I deserve everything I have, don’t you reckon?”
“Good to know you’re still full of surprises,” she remarked dryly. Takemi studied his face for a long moment. Several long moments. He wondered what she was looking for. “Alright. You’ve got my attention. Sure,” she smirked. “Why not. Seven it is.”
It was only when Ren got back to his hotel the day after that he realised he hadn’t quite thought this through. His secretary berated him for giving Takemi a blank check without asking her to follow up with the specifics of her outfit. He was too stubborn to check, of course, which left him and Ai speculating at what would be appropriate to wear to match her. Ren allowed his secretary to leave fifteen minutes into their spiral.
Ren had made enough last-minute fashion decisions to know that black was always the smart choice. He put on a standard white shirt, a tux, a black bowtie, but his hand stopped above the other accessories his secretary had left on his bed. One of the pocket squares was a dark turquoise. It made him think of the dress Takemi used to wear, way back when he was in Shujin. When he last saw her. Ren frowned. His memories from back then had become fuzzy. He grabbed the fabric and held it in his hand. Ren had no idea why he owned something like this. He probably didn’t - what was far more likely was that his secretary had dug through old photos, found the colour, and made sure he had it available. She deserved a raise.
Jiro picked him up in the usual car. The skyscapes of Tokyo existed only in his peripheral as he read through contracts that he barely understood on the way to Yongen-Jaya from his hotel. Ren trusted his legal team, he did, he just never shook the need to do everything himself. The idea of being one of those executives who did nothing at a company and received all the rewards was ample motivation for Ren to take an active hand in Sendai Capital, even if his nature didn’t already compel him to.
Ren spent two minutes in the driveway forcing his way through the final pages of the document before tossing it in the front seat and making his way to the address Takemi had given him. He knocked on the door, glancing around the street. It had been a long while since he last stayed somewhere like this. Ren narrowly stopped himself from frowning. He hoped he wasn’t growing out of touch. “Door’s unlocked,” she called out to him.
Ren had definitely changed. He locked the door behind himself once he was through. “Anyone could get in, doc,” he walked further into her small home.
“You really think they’d have a chance?” she shot back.
“Touche,” he rumbled to himself.
“Help yourself to a drink. I’ll be right out.”
Ren glanced at the half-empty bottle of brandy on the kitchen top. Two glasses - one stained, one clean - sat at its side. Ren began pouring but stopped it after only a few sips worth were in the unused glass. There was no need to ruin his liver before he even rocked up to the event. He spared a look around Takemi’s home. It was quaint. Messy, not unclean. There was an organisation to it. She had a small TV. A couch that looked as if it would barely fit one person, let alone more. This part of the house was more kitchen than living room. The only table sat low in front of the couch. The only chairs sat high next to the kitchen counter.
“It’s not much,” Takemi started. Ren glanced back at her when she didn’t finish. She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not much.” His money had clearly been spent well. Takemi’s dress was black as well, with several accents. It flayed outwards at the floor. She had long gloves. Her hair had been done up very differently. Sophisticatedly would be a better term. The turquoise necklace sat below her neck was the only colour to be seen on her person, aside from her pale skin. The fabric in Ren’s pocket was almost a direct match. He was definitely giving his secretary a raise.
His chuckle caught in his throat as he set his glass down. “Would it be more or less inappropriate if I complimented you now?” Compared to when he was in school, went unspoken.
She had a smug look on her face. “I didn’t spend three hours getting dolled up to be ignored.”
“Then let me be the first to say you look incredible,” Ren spread his arms with a grin. “Don’t tell my secretary but I’m going to feel a hell of a lot more impressive walking in with you on my arm than her.”
Takemi placed a hand on her hip and tilted her chin down a quarter of an inch. “You really know how to make a girl feel wanted, don’t you?”
Ren gestured to the door. “You’d get bored too fast if all I gave you were compliments.”
She stepped ahead of him. “Six years,” Takemi exhaled with a shake of the head. “It certainly made you more confident.”
“And it certainly made you less subtle,” he waved at his driver, who grabbed the handle of the car preemptively. Jiro kept his other hand behind his back.
“Careful, now,” she purred. “Keep going and I’ll think you’re flirting with me.”
“Me? Flirt? And to think I thought you knew me.” Ren shook his head and took her hand as he helped her into the car. “After all, all I did was buy you a very expensive outfit, come to pick you up, and promised you a night out in the city at a masquerade ball no less.”
Takemi smiled mirthfully at that. “Of course. How could I even consider you want anything untoward.”
“I’m a gentleman,” Ren stood tall.
“If you were flirting,” Takemi spoke up before Jiro could close her door, “you’ve gotten a lot better than whatever it was you were doing while you worked for me.”
“If,” Ren smirked. She returned it. Ren didn’t precisely know what he was doing. He didn’t hate it. Takemi didn’t seem to hate it either. Ren blamed Yoshida. Jiro wisely kept expression off his face as they walked behind the car to the other side.
Ren’s only real fear about tonight was that Takemi would be bored. God knew he always was, but she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. They both wore silver masks - hers was thinner, but his was entirely too reminiscent of what Joker used to wear. That truly was a bygone era. Ren didn’t dwell on it. They mingled through the ball, making the rounds. There were enough familiar faces hidden behind masks to avoid having to branch out and be sociable.
Takemi didn’t speak anywhere near as much as Ren did, though it didn’t seem to bother her. She seemed happy enough to watch him at work. Ren almost felt as if he was being evaluated. For a woman who allegedly had never been to an event like this, Takemi appeared quite at ease. She remained attached to his arm, though not enough to convey that she was anything more than his plus one. She smiled at his jokes, added anecdotes that benefited whatever he was doing - if Takemi told Ren that she had done this before he would have believed her.
They spoke with Yoshida and his allies for half an hour. If the politician recognised Takemi from the bar in Yongen-Jaya he didn’t show it. Ren knew his friend never got blackout so chose to believe that Yoshida was being courteous. Ren also chose to ignore the sparkle in the other man’s eye when he introduced Takemi. That was mere coincidence.
They spoke with a few other lobbyists. They spoke with the Minister for Reconstruction. They spoke with Commissioner-General Kaburagi and her entourage. She still didn’t like him, but her eyes were set on the position of Director-General. Another political game Ren was more than ready to leave behind. Zengichi had a soft spot for the woman, but Ren still found her rather unpleasant. His experiences with both the SIU and Public Security sat on the same spectrum. Closely. “You look like you’re five seconds away from snapping.”
Ren snorted. He glanced down at his companion. “If that’s the case then I need to reconsider my line of work. Doesn’t do to be so transparent.”
Takemi smirked as she placed her empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. “Just to me. You’re my guinea pig. I’ve known you for longer than everyone else who’s here.” She pet his bicep absently. “I know how you work.”
“Enjoy this while it lasts.” He straightened his bowtie lazily. “Before you know it our roles will be reversed. I’ll remember this, then.”
“Loosen up,” she lifted his chin by finger and thumb. Ren met her troublesome eyes. “I don’t remember you being so rigid.”
“Tired is more like it.” Ren slowly guided her towards the balcony. “It’s hard to joke around when one misstep could cost you half a million yen.”
Takemi chuckled. “I know you’re complaining but it sounds like you’re showing off.”
Ren huffed. “It would be if either of us cared about money. If you did then you’d be the head of a whole line of hospitals by now.”
“Touche,” she shook her head. “If you did then you wouldn’t be backing No-Good Tora.”
A valid response. His friend was loved by the people, not the establishment, who only enjoyed populism when it was a superficial tool. Yoshida was anything but. “Do you think we keep ourselves so busy because we worry that if we stop moving for too long that we won’t be happy with where we at?” As the words left his mouth Ren tried to count how many glasses he had accepted tonight. The range he was looking at was less than ideal.
Takemi fell silent for a moment. She only replied once they breached the doors to the balcony. “Yes.” The response came short. Blunt. Honest.
“Are you as drunk as I am?” It was oh so easy to give into the urge to deflect from vulnerability with comedy. Ren didn’t understand why he was being so open with a woman he hadn’t seen in years. He blamed the alcohol.
“Yes,” she replied just as curtly as she did before.
They looked at the view that stretched throughout the rest of the city. Tokyo was a beautiful place. More so when the mind was attempting to do anything but rest. It was an attractive distraction. They stood silently, pressed against each other’s sides as they studied the same expanse. Ren wondered when was the last time he felt this relaxed. He wondered just how much champagne had ravaged his liver tonight. “Do you ever think about how many people we’ve saved?”
There was no ego in that question. He knew Takemi could tell that. She hummed. The noise had weight. “Yes,” she stated for the third time. The word came quieter. Nearly imperceptibly quieter.
“It feels good to help others,” Ren continued. “Addictingly good.”
“That’s an interesting word,” Takemi broke off his arm to lean on the stone. Ren frowned at his disappointment. He stared at the back of her head. She sighed. “It feels good to help people. To be depended on. Do you think that’s why we’ve never been able to pull ourselves away?”
Ren chuckled. He shook his head. He barked a laugh, then chuckled some more. “We’re selfless because we’re selfish, is that it?” Ren shook his head again. “Me, maybe. Not you.”
“And why not?” she drawled. “Neither of us can stop. It’s a cycle.” Takemi turned to lean against the balcony, looking him up and down. She stared into his eyes when her own finished their study. “Your skin’s paler than the last time we met. I can see the barest hints of dark circles below your eyes. Your movements are slower. Your weight’s dropped. You’re in better shape than the last time we met, sure,” she crossed her arms, “but that’s only because of what you went through at the time. If you were a stranger who walked into my clinic I’d put you on bedrest sooner than you could open your mouth.”
Ren scoffed. “You’re not any better. It doesn’t take a detective to see how much you’ve changed.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not the only one who’s lost colour. You were vibrant, the last time we spoke before I left - now you look twice as tired as I am. Your posture’s gotten worse.”
“It hasn’t.” Her tone was icy.
He didn’t back down. “Barely, maybe, but it’s gotten worse.”
Takemi stared at him blankly. “I take back what I said about you being a gentleman.”
Ren let something smug etch itself across his face. “I never thought I’d see the day you dished more than you could take.”
That shattered her act. Takemi chuckled. She didn’t move away when Ren leaned against the stone at her side. “I’ve missed this.”
That was a broad statement. Genuine, but broad. Ren could infer what she meant. Calmer days. The banter. Fun. Playful teasing. Friendship. A bond. She could have been referring to any of it - all of it, even. “Me too.” It was an equally vague response and just as much of a cop out.
“How long are you in Tokyo for?” Takemi asks as she removed her masquerade mask.
“Sorry,” Ren sighed. “I’m flying back to Sendai tomorrow.” He usually didn’t care. Ren was always working regardless of the city.
“I can’t be disappointed,” Takemi chuckled ruefully. She absently pulled his mask off. “I doubt I’d be able to take another day off anyway.” Ren furrowed his brow as Takemi gripped his face and pulled him into a brief kiss. It didn’t linger. “Don’t think too hard about that. Consider it something to remember this trip by.”
He did his best to put a charismatic grin on. He was reasonably sure he failed. “I’m sure-”
“Don’t ruin this with a stupid remark,” she tutted.
Ren’s grin grew more genuine. “I was only going to say that I’d treat it as an incentive to come back, and then,” he continued before he could stick his foot in his mouth, “I was going to ask if you wanted to dance.”
Takemi tilted her head to the side in a half-nod. Ren took her hand and led her to the dance floor. He grabbed and downed another champagne on the way towards the waltz. His mind was clearing, and Ren was smart enough to put off sober thoughts for as long as possible.
His secretary’s voice became white noise. Ren stood at the airport’s glass, staring at the plane he was due to board. It was funny how just a taste of something different was enough to poison the mind. Ai kept talking. Ren didn’t hear any of it. She was good at her job, to his detriment - so good that he already partially felt that he was back in Sendai, either entertaining guests in his house or businessmen in his office or politicians on the court or- or whatever else Ai was telling him he had planned for the month. The week. The day.
Ren grit his teeth. Last night had ignited something he had long let go of. Nothing so juvenile as love or hope. Ren wasn’t a child. No, what he found himself tossing in his head was something far more dangerous. He was dreaming of something more. Something else. Something different. Something that wasn’t going to drive him off the roof of Sendai Capital. Ren had forgotten how to dream. He had forgotten why, but he could visualise the door sealing him back away in the prison of success that would doom him to another five, ten, twenty, fifty years of endless financing, power broking, and influencing. Ren snarled at his reflection.
He compared himself to all those terrible men that he had fought against, back when things like justice and fairness mattered to him. Madarame was a fraudster incapable of his own creativity - what was Sendai Capital if not a way to manipulate numbers into wealth and power? Kaneshiro squeezed every last penny out of Shibuya’s pockets - just because Ren lived in a nice neighborhood didn’t mean that the actions of his company weren’t affecting others. How would he know? He never checked. Okumura had nothing to him but the drive for more. More money, power, prestige, fame - how was Ren any better? Did the fact he gave his employees a weekend and dental really put him all that far above the man he watched bleed on live television? And what about Shido? Even now Ren tried to avoid comparing them. He was afraid of the results.
Akechi might have been a monster, but he knew what he was. He had conviction. Principles. A goal. A vision.
Maruki and Konoe believed they were building a better world. They were blinded by their ambitions and their pride, but their intentions were pure. Tainted, but pure.
Even Ichinose, the woman who was willing to do anything to find a heart of her own, operated within a system she had set. Desperation drove her to do what she did.
Ren had no goal no vision.
Ren’s intentions weren’t pure, they were banal.
Ren wasn’t desperate, he was empty.
He stared at the plane. He didn’t want to go. “Book me another flight,” Ren turned suddenly and stormed off.
“You have eight meetings scheduled for when you get back,” his secretary hissed at him.
Ren respected her spine. “Push them back.”
Ai scowled. “What has gotten into you?”
He stopped in the middle of the airport and pulled his checkbook out of his pocket. “Here’s a check for… five million yen,” he signed messily. “Go back to Sendai. I’ll call the office soon.” His secretary stared at him, then the note in his hand, then his eyes again. Ai angrily snatched it out of his hands and power-walked away. “Make sure a driver meets me out the front of the airport,” he called after her.
Jiro was already waiting for him. Apparently the man made a habit of being prepared just in case Ren had a last-minute change of plans. How fortuitous. Ren made sure to leave a check in his hands when he left the car that matched what he gave his secretary. He asked Jiro to leave him on Central Street. Ren took the train back to Yongen-Jaya. It was a route he hadn’t taken since he left after Emma’s destruction. After all he and the Thieves had done, the people around him looked just as drained and lifeless as they did the first time he found his way to Shujin.
Ren got off in Yongen-Jaya and briskly walked through the streets. He pulled at his tie and yanked it off, tossing it into a nearby bin before unbuttoning the top two buttons. Ren found his way to Takemi’s clinic, all the while doing everything he could to avoid thinking. For once he allowed impulse alone to drive him. Anything to break this godforsaken cycle. He swept past the receptionist not sparing her so much as a look. The younger woman struggled to stand and follow him but Ren had already left her behind. He bypassed several other doctors or nurses or whatever they were and burst into Takemi’s office.
She glanced up with what, for her, counted as moderate surprise, and set down her pen. “This should be good.”
“You’re as dead inside as I am, aren’t you?” he closed the door and locked it when he saw the receptionist barrelling down towards them.
“Observant,” Takemi drawled sardonically. “You’ve come so far. From guinea pig to detective.”
Ren sat down opposite her. “We’re going to die doing this.”
“Probably.”
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked. “Out of this city.” For the first time since he’d met her, genuine identifiable surprise flashed across her face. “We could go anywhere. Anywhere but here.”
Takemi frowned. “My clinic-”
“Will be fine on its own,” Ren shut that down. “You said it yourself that you’re doing more admin than actual doctor work.”
Her lips twitch at his less-than-accurate descriptors. “Even so, I can’t just leave it behind to go gallivanting around Japan with you.”
“Why limit yourself to Japan?” he shrugged.
Takemi let out a mirthful breath. “You’re really not kidding.”
“I’ll fund the clinic myself so forget about that,” he shuffled the seat around her desk until he was inches away from her. “Let’s get out of here.”
“When I kissed you last night, I really wasn’t expecting anything,” Takemi leant into her seat. “It was a thank you. Nothing more.”
“I’ve barely thought about it.” That was a true statement. “All I’ve been able to think about is how much more we want to do with our lives, how we have the means and the money, and how we’re both going to rot away if we don’t do something drastic. I know this is crazy,” Ren chuckled. “Might be the most impulsive thing I’ve done in my life, but think about it, Tae. I know you’re going just as insane as I am.”
“This is ridiculous,” she laughed.
Ren grinned. “Absolutely. Doesn’t it feel great?”
“I’m not a young woman, Ren,” her face nearly fell. “I’m pushing thirty-five. You’d be better off-”
“Tae,” he cut her off with a serious look. “All I care about is breaking out of this cycle and actually living my life. I don’t care about anything else. I came to you because I know we’re in the same place. I’m not asking you out, I’m not asking anything of you other than the chance to dream again.”
Takemi stared at him for a long moment. Then some more. He held her gaze. She smirked, then chuckled, then laughed. “God, what am I doing.” She buried her face in her hands. She looked at him through her fingers. What the hell. Alright, sure,” she agreed, dropping her wrists to her knees. “Fuck it.”
Ren grinned and stood, grabbing her hands and bringing her up. “Where do you want to go first?”
Takemi laughed again. Ren could get used to the sound. “You really haven’t thought this through, have you?”
“Not at all. I’m running blind here,” he pulled her towards the door. “We can decide at the airport.”
“We haven’t packed-”
“No time,” Ren held her hand, briskly leading her out of the clinic as her staff scrambled around them. “I’ll buy you whatever you need when we get wherever you tell me we’re going.”
Takemi made no effort to break away. “You said Okinawa was nice,” she offered.
“Done,” he hailed a taxi.
Takemi “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever agreed to.”
Ren turned to her as cars shot past on the road. “Doesn’t it feel great?”
She rolled her eyes. “I have no idea. I’m completely out of my depth here.”
Ren took another gamble, pulled her close, and kissed her. Again, she didn’t pull away. “So, Okinawa?” Takemi pulled him back down into another kiss. The taxi beeped the horn at them. Ren grinned.