Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ren was surrounded by heat, safely caged in by satin-soft feathers, the echoes of his mind reduced to a static buzz. The darkness of his room was interrupted by the flickering of a dying campfire's flames, and were Ren to shift slightly, he would come face-to-mask with Arsene's placid coal-ember gaze. His persona was humming, lowly, rumbling like a furnace, and his wings moved around ever-so-slightly to adjust Ren closer to himself, tucking the human safely away from all of the hatred in the world, his leathery skin cool to touch.

There was no place Ren felt more safe, or more protected and cherished in, than in Arsene's arms like this: in the middle of the night at what Ann would probably call witching hour, safely ensconced in a blanket of black feathers. He sighed, the last few days' worries finally leaving him, the stress of tomorrow still a sunrise away.

Thou should rest, mon petit voleur, Arsene hummed, affection sparking in the back of Ren's mind. He grunted, too tired for any real words, and simply burrowed deeper into the persona's neck.

Arsene hugged his wings closer around them. Tomorrow may bring what tomorrow will come, Ren. It is useless to think about it at such an hour.

A hand begun to pet through Ren's hair, razor-sharp claws skillfully untangling knots and sending pleasant shivers down Ren's spine. He couldn't help himself; they were so close to their deadline to deal with Haru's father --

My dearest thief, Arsene continued, his eyes burning brighter than before, two miniature suns in this darkness, I can quite literally hear thee thinking. A phantom thief thou may be, but even phantom thieves need rest.

Ren smiled into Arsene's clavicle. Tell me about what you have been reading, then, to distract me from my thoughts.

The Pillager of Twilight was only too happy to agree, and Ren fell asleep to stories told to him about fire demons and young-old maidens and wizards with living castles.

Here is how it started:  

Being given the choice between fusing Arsene away for a stronger persona and keeping him, it would've seemed like a simple choice to make -- they had to defeat Kamoshida before they'd have gotten expelled from school, and thus Joker should've handed Arsene over to the guillotine. Igor certainly had believed it to be the next logical step. Justine and Caroline as well, and even Arsene had nodded at Ren, told him we shall meet again when the time is right, in the future, but.

But.

Arsene had been Joker's first persona, had helped him and Ryuji and Ann and Morgana out, had shared his wisdom late at night with Ren.

Had been standing proud and tall, then, as well, with his flaming mask of a face burning bright. Ren still remembered glancing back towards the guillotine, towards the sharp blade ready to fall like the hammer of judgement, and remembered making up his mind.

"Arsene!"

Those flames had burned brighter in response, great black wings puffing up almost as if in pride, before the persona -- his Persona -- had turned back into Joker's domino mask, and then he'd turned on his heels and left the Velvet Room.

(Morgana had spoken about thieves' honor, once, to him and Ryuji even before Ann had joined them, and Arsene, too, had mentioned a gentleman thief's code of conduct, in that same conversation with a fond voice.

And, well. It would not have done it for Ren to so easily give up on his partner, now would it? Even if there were stronger persona out there; Ren could always fuse someone else than Arsene. Arsene was Ren's. Where would the honor be, in that, if Ren were to forsake the one who told him, who had declared so boldly, that they were one and the same?)

At that point, Ren had not given it much thought, that warm feeling that had burned within him at Arsene's fond smile, but in hindsight, it had been the beginning, for them. With each new foe they defeated, each new palace they infiltrated, that bond that had been there since the beginning grew stronger and stronger, those chains that had surrounded Arsene now surrounding Ren as well, making it impossible to leave without shattering them, shattering the trust they'd build within each other.

Ren might have gathered many more persona for himself and to help the Phantom Thieves, but Arsene was, and would be, forever Ren's first.

(Arsene was always there, at the back of Ren's mind: he'd asked Morgana, once, if it was normal that Persona users could sense their persona, and Morgana had nodded. Apparently Zorro felt like a gentle breeze -- when asked, Captain Kidd was revealed to feel similar to the low hum of electricity, and Carmen like the warmth of a candle. The others had described it as something barely there, only noticeable if they focused on it, and Ren had hummed a thank you and not asked if they could feel emotion from their persona -- Arsene had been amused, then, a smoky curl low in Ren's throat, his presence thrumming in time with Ren's heartbeat.)

(Later, once their bonds had deepened enough, the answer would have been yes: Carmen had a delightedly wicked sense of humor, and Captain Kidd liked to banter with Ryuji at every turn, and Zorro was quite the romantic -- but in the beginning, back with Kamoshida? Not yet.)

It did not take long for Ren to figure out that whatever it was, that he and Arsene shared, was -different, from what the others shared with their persona.

Despite popular belief, the persona were not, actually, always awake at the same time as their users-slash-humans-slash-partners. Upon noticing that Arsene's usual smoky presence had dimmed to something that Ren's dubbed 'sleep mode' affectionately, he took his chance and interrupted the Thieves' current discussion (and chess game between Yusuke and Morgana).

"So, like," He started, effectively garnering the attention of everyone. And then he promptly shut up, not knowing how to continue. Ann, Morgana and Ryuji shared a glance.

Yusuke and Makoto blinked, confused, the former's chess game forgotten.

"Is it Arsene trouble?" Ann asked, because whenever Ren would start a conversation with so, like, and then clam up, it was Arsene trouble.

Ren nodded.

Makoto looked vaguely concerned at that, her fingers twitching as if trying to decide on an action. She had grown close to Johanna very fast, and could not imagine there being discomfort between persona and human. "...trouble? With your persona?"

Ryuji snorted. "Right, you've never been on the receiving end of one of the many, many rants regarding Arsene, have you, student council prez?" He paused. "Or Yusuke, for that matter."

"I have heard about them," Yusuke admitted, nodding at Morgana, who huffed and flicked his tail. Everybody had their allotted Morgana-time where they would spend a day or two with the not-cat, and the first time that it had been Yusuke's turn, Morgana just had come from another Arsene-and-Ren related incident. The cat had had opinions.

"'Arsene trouble' refers to whatever shenanigans Ren's main persona usually gets up to; stuff that our own persona never really bother with. What is it this time?" Ann smiled at Ren, a patient saint, even though he knew that she would use it for some kind of blackmail later.

(He was completely right. Ann was a right bastard when she wanted to be.)

Ren grinned wryly, something of Joker settling into his features. "He keeps materializing outside of Mementos or the Palaces, and then he kind of… hovers around me without pause. Usually he wants to read -- he once even tried to drink coffee, that kind of backfired -- but lately he's just hovering around me."

The whole materializing thing was strange in and on itself, because none of the other persona felt the need to do so -- they could see what their humans saw, after all, and talking through their shared mental space was preferable to being physically present. They did not like materializing as a general rule, as Zorro had confirmed, once. Arsene had materialized for the first time the night Shiho had jumped, when Ren had been wracked with guilt at not having been of greater help. Morgana hadn't been much use, then, because Ren had told Morgana to accompany Ann, who'd needed it more, but once Ren had made it safely back to Leblanc he'd shut down almost immediately.

Arsene had materialized, then, and taken Ren's school bag and put it next to his bed, and then he'd guided Ren to sit down on the edge of it, his claws carefully hovering between the thief's shoulder blades and neck.

Mademoiselle Shiho is a strong person, little thief. I have no doubt that she shall fight her way back towards the light.

And then, a little softer: It is not thy fault, Ren. Thou didst everything that thou could have done.

It had helped immensely.

And then Arsene simply kept doing it, randomly materializing in the attic whenever Sojiro had left for the evening. At one point he'd expressed interest in reading, and Ren had bought him the Arsène Lupin books on a whim, and Arsene had happily fluffed up his wings after he'd made himself comfortable on Ren's bed and started reading.

(Morgana, upon walking up from his last sweep downstairs, had stopped and just kind of… stared… at the demonic-looking persona happily curled up on the bed, and glanced in disbelief at Ren, who'd shrugged. It was endearing, how absorbed Arsene was in the books, and how carefully he'd seated himself onto the bed, making sure that his shoes didn't touch the mattress.)

But lately he was always hovering intensely around Ren, and Ren didn't know why.

Morgana chimed in: "It's true! He's kind of… mopey, really."

"Your persona is… mopey?" Makoto looked skeptical, but Ren nodded. "His wings are all very droopey, and his face-mask-thing --" here, Ren gestured at his own face, especially at his eyes, "-- has gone all murky. And I don't know why."  

A second of silence.

"Maybe he is feeling jealous?" Yusuke offered.

Everyone stared at him. Yusuke blushed. "Well. I mean, Ren has a great many persona, and Arsene hadn't been fighting much, lately, right?"

Another second of silence, until--

"That makes a strangely large amount of sense." That was Ann. "And you usually let go of most of the other persona that you pick up in the palaces, but you didn't, this time."

Ren blinks, thinks back to two weeks ago. Huh. Ann was right. They've been dealing with an increase of shadows in Mementos, and so he'd kept the other persona around much longer than he usually does -- he sort of, kind of, stores them in the Velvet Room, so that he can call upon them again when needed? Only, not really? Actually, it's more like he phones them and they come and help him out again? They share Arsene's mental space in the back of Ren's mind when they actively infiltrate a palace, though.

Kind of like Pokémon, actually --

oh wow, that was a surprisingly apt comparison.

Arsene was waking up now, though, the smokiness spreading through Ren's body like something slow and languid, and he blinked his recent thoughts away. "Thanks, guys."

Ann hummed in understanding and smoothly redirected the conversation, to Makoto's utter bewilderment.

Arsene caught the tail-end of Ren's amused thoughts. Ren?

Ren chuckled, still stuck on the last thought, and couldn't help himself. Go, Arsene! I choose you!

Bewilderment met him.

Once Ren left the other persona back in the Velvet Room-storage box-thing, Arsene was back to his normal, bewildering self. Ren had found himself grinning at how adorably jealous the demon thief was, and then thought:

Oh.

He glanced at Arsene again, as he once more tried to drink coffee, without much success. Apparently it was all about willpower and belief, and making an effort, but it was easier in Mementos than in the real world? Anyways, Ren let his eyes roam over his persona, over the red leather of his clothes to the weirdly hollow top hat to the honestly (in Ryuji's words, not Ren's) fucking amazing knife-heel boots and lastly, to Arsene's face, his fire burning in a kind of disgruntled way, all low embers with sparks at the edges.

Thought, oh no.

And then promptly showed those thoughts away before Arsene could feel them, into that small, still private space of his head.

They had called a Phantom Thieves meeting the second the whole Medjed thing had become unpredictable and out-of-hand: Alibaba had contacted them, told them to steal a heart in exchange of taking care of Medjed, and then promptly disappeared again from the face of the earth once they'd tried to probe deeper.

Their ragtag group of misfit thieves was in Mementos, now, in a previously-cleared space, and everyone was sitting in a loose circle while mulling over the recent turn of events.

"-we can't trust Alibaba, is all I'm saying!" Makoto -- no, she was Queen now, unyielding and fierce, just as Ren was Joker now, and Ryuji was more Skull than Ryuji, all of them settling into their phantom thief selves like coming home into your second skin. A privilege that they could only really allow themselves in Mementos, because they could only really be themselves in this place of distorted desires.

"I do agree with Queen on this, mis amores." Carmen sighed, to a round of murmured comments from Arsene, Zorro, Goemon and Mona. "It is quite suspicious that Alibaba wishes to help us take down this Medjed, only to withdraw their request and block us."

"But we cannot not do anything."

Joker flinched. Therein lies the crux of their problem: they could not target Medjed, because Medjed was a anonymous group of internet hackers, and Alibaba was way too sketchy. Johanna and Carmen -- it really was mostly Johanna and Carmen right now, the two persona bickering back and forth while everyone else was lost in their thoughts -- were both right, that was the problem.

Joker sighed, glanced over their group (his group, his phantom thieves): Skull and Captain Kidd were surprisingly silent while letting the others talk, Skull only occasionally chiming in to snark at Mona, who was vehemently siding with Carmen and Queen. Zorro was mostly keeping an eye on approaching shadows while he stood at the edge of the group, his fingers twitching every-so-often when one managed to stray too near. Fox thought they should help Alibaba because their situation might be similar to his own, and Goemon had agreed with him, siding with Johanna, while conceding that Queen was right to be so cautious. Panther was worrying her lips, her gaze constantly finding Joker's while she was mulling something over.

Leaning back against where Joker knew Arsene was standing, the leader of the Phantom Thieves let his head thunk against the persona's leg. "What do you think, Arsene? You've been awfully quiet the whole day."

"This is a difficult situation, I must admit. It would not do for us voleurs fantômes to fall at the invisible hands of this Medjed, but yet the only way to truly counter them is to trust in this Alibaba fellow, whom we do not know anything about." A low feeling of dissatisfaction spread through Joker that turned into something almost… anticipatory, before it resolved and disappeared just as fast, Arsene tilting forward until his wings cast a shadow over Joker. "It is thy decision, Joker. I shall trust in it, whatever it may be. We are but at a crossroads with two equally mysterious ends in sight." Something like a grin spread over Arsene's mask, almost manic in its quality. "Do we plunge headfirst into danger unknown? Shall the Phantom Thieves of Hearts come out victorious? Only the lady of luck shall know."

Joker sometimes forgot that Arsene, for all of his (flamboyant) gentlemanly veneer, was just as insane as the rest of their group -- more so, even, because he was pretty much Arsene Lupin, gentleman phantom thief. He just hid it better than others; Joker heard him and Carmen discuss the finer points of pickpocketing once.

(Don't get him wrong, Joker thinking that they were insane was a compliment: you had to be at least somewhat, to regularly risk your life by vaulting over high-security walls and fighting against shadows.)

Still; Joker didn't think that he's ever seen Arsene look so in-his-element as in that moment, save for maybe their first meeting: his wings were quivering in excitement, his fire burning bright and full of ecstatic passion. He looked incredible, like this, all sharp angles and powerful stance, like a predator with his claws gleaming, and sent something low and hot pooling in Joker's stomach.  

(Joker had never really thought of himself as attracted to men before, had never really crossed his mind that he could be like one of those, you know, like Tatsumi-kun, had thought even less about finding Arsene attractive in all of his inhuman-ness, but he might have to start to reconsider his stance on such things. Because those claws, so terrifying when rendering a shadow apart, but also so gentle when being a reassuring weight on Joker's nape. Or those wings with their soft feathers, and the quite literal mask of a face, so expressive with its burning flames.

…

…

Yeah, so Joker certainly had to reconsider his stance on being attracted to men in general and Arsene as a man-shaped-being in particular.

And also: was it narcissistic, being attracted to his own persona, a reflection of his self?)

"Joker?"

"Leader?"

Shaking himself to re-center his focus back on the group, Joker was met with silence as everyone waited for his answer, and he let a grin stretch across his face, his head tipping to acknowledge Skull. "Let's try carefully contacting Alibaba again, or at least to figure out who they wanted us to steal a heart from -- Medjed's given us an ultimatum to the end of the month, so Alibaba is the more pressing concern for now. I know that we're worried about their intentions, but it's our best bet."

Everyone agreed.

    (Over the following four days after Ren was brought back and patched up by Tae to the best of her abilities, Arsene-the-demonic-looking-persona-thing kept randomly materializing inside Leblanc, almost giving Sojiro a heart attack each and every time. It -- he? -- seemed hell-bent on making sure that the kid rested as much as possible, and generally made a good job of keeping Ren confined to his bed, and had also given Sojiro answers to some of the questions that Futaba had not been able to answer, and played translator for Morgana, who was a talking cat. It -- he, damnit -- was also obviously very worried about Ren, and Sojiro had heard him read to his charge twice now, once in Japanese and once in what the owner of Leblanc surmised to be Italian or Spanish or French or something.

It made Sojiro certainly less worried to leave a demon-persona-whatever alone with Ren and Morgana-the-talking-cat, especially since, from what he'd gathered from Futaba, a persona was somehow a representation of their innermost, rebellious selves. There was a lot of cognitive science involved, but he at least understood that.

Ren's friends kept visiting, cautiously, two at least every day, some hours apart, because they were also incredibly worried; they had to watch out to not to raise too much suspicion in Akechi Goro, greatest high-school detective wunderkind that Tokyo's had ever since that Kudo Shinichi had gone missing, years ago, and the Hakuba kid had gone back to England.

Sojiro sighed, and then sighed again as Arsene-the-not-literally-a-demon materialized out of nothing to clear away the last few dishes from the empty tables -- the café had closed ten minutes ago with the last customer leaving, and Sojiro didn't worry about Arsene being seen, because apparently only confidantes could make him out clearly, or something? It was all some stupid magic to the man, and he left it at that. Still. He glanced at the blank mask -- it looked downtrodden, somehow -- and down at the cup of coffee in his hand, feeling ridiculous.

"...do you want a coffee?"

Arsene, who had been turning the 'open' sign around, paused, before finishing the action, slowly.

Sojiro felt incredibly stupid as the dem- persona made his way over to the counter, his mouth-less face looking at the cup. Right. The persona that had a literal painted-on fire for a mouth. Right.

Hell, Sojiro was really worried about Ren, but the kid was his charge, at least until February. The kid was his.

Then, those flames somehow curved into an amused smile. "Gladly."

Arsene sat down, stared at the cup of coffee, hard, and Sojiro was about to tell him that he didn't have to, if he didn't want -- he really took the whole 'gentleman thief' to the same level as Phantom Thief 1412 did. And that was a thought, Sojiro mused. Who is to say that Ren wouldn't go off thieving to his heart's content internationally, as KID had done once more, barely two years ago? Sojiro had been to exactly one heist, back when Wakaba was still alive, and that had been more than enough excitement and magic for him.

…

And then Arsene drank the coffee.

Somehow.

The persona hummed a pleased hum, staring down at the empty cup in -- melancholy? Contemplation? Murder? Sojiro didn't know.

"I see that Ren's praise is not without merit. This was a splendid cup of coffee, Hierophant. Thank you."

And then he was gone, presumably back to Ren.)

    (Sae had gotten a rundown from Makoto, once she's finally had the time to talk to her little sister, about the past months of phantom thieving, and it perfectly collaborated with Amamiya's story: it was chilling to know that Sae had been so ignorant of all of the danger that Makoto had been in, and the whole Metaverse-metaphysical-realm things were not as placating as Makoto seemed to have hoped.

"And that Arsene," Sae had asked, still remembering how terrifyingly demonic he had looked, with horns and wings and claws and fire for eyes, like something out of a nightmare. How unbelievably gentle he had been with Amamiya, cradling him in his arms while carrying the exhausted teenager up the stars.

Makoto, unexplainably, had smiled gently. "As long as Ren wants it so, Arsene is a harmless flirt. You have to understand, sis, that a persona is a reflection of who we are -- I am thou, and thou art I -- and Arsene cares a great deal about Ren, just as Ren does about Arsene. Just as I do about Johanna." Then she'd paused, before adding: "Well. Almost. In a different way. Not exactly the same."

Sae hadn't understood it, the day before yesterday, but now that she's had two relatively work-free days to ponder over that cryptic not-answer, and had those selfsame days to pay some attention to Makoto, she had come to the conclusion that whenever Makoto would distractedly stare into space or hum to herself she was talking to Johanna. And then she found Makoto's mirror image staring back at her from the window pane while Makoto was chatting on her phone, completely engrossed with the Okumura girl, and Sae felt a shiver run down her spine as the yellow-eyed reflection mouthed her name.

But Sae was not a coward, and so she nodded curtly. Mouthed Johanna, I presume? back at the reflection.

Yes, it mouthed. A pleasure to meet you.

Makoto was away more often than not, a few days later, and while Sae hadn't paid much attention to it before, she did now. It seemed that the Phantom Thieves were planning their last hurrah, now that their leader was feeling better. That meeting two days ago certainly helped shed some light on the last few mysteries Sae has had, and even Arsene's unnerving presence had lessened due to the fact that he had been nursing a cup of coffee… somehow, like a dragon that was hoarding gold. She believed it to have been a calculated move to appear as non-threatening as possible towards her.

She'd talked with Sakura about the weird turn of events that their lives had taken, and that sparked the current question. "How come that your persona never… materializes? From what Sakura has told me, Arsene had been around almost every day. If it is because of me -- I do not mind."

They had, in fact, exchanged phone numbers to keep each other in the loop.

Makoto pursed her lips.

Sae sighed. "... I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable with having to hide Johanna from me, Makoto. I'm- trying, I really am."

Her younger sister sighed. "It's not that, sis. Persona, generally speaking, don't like to materialize in the real world. And Johanna in particular looks like a motorbike, which is generally not suited to a cramped apartment."

A motorbike-? Yes, Amamiya had mentioned it, during the interrogation. Sae had not believed him then. "I see."

Makoto shrugged and smiled. "Johanna appreciates the sentiment, as do I. And Arsene is a special case -- he enjoys spending his time here, and usually reads or simply listens to us talking. The others are content with watching us through reflections, and with being silent spectators."

Sae nodded as if she was completely happy with the answer and not burning with more questions and hypotheses and curiosity, and let Makoto run off while she sorted through her documents. It seemed that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts were doing their part in discovering the perpetrator of the psychotic breakdowns; it was high time that Sae helped them from the legal side of matters.)

They were standing in front of a god, down to their last leg, on top of the Tokyo skyline -- over the Tokyo skyline, the garish insides of Mementos turned out for all to see.

They were standing in front of a god, and had called for another god to defeat him, and Ren's vision was blurry and his arm was trembling, where he was holding out his gun, defiantly aimed at Yaldabaoth's front.

Ren was standing in front of a god, and the god was whispering promises of a better future into his ears like a siren to a sailor, and Ren's arm was trembling and his hand was slick with blood, but he still held onto the gun as he grit his teeth. They had been unmade, forgotten, and then Ren had found himself back in the Velvet Room with the real Igor and the newly-united Lavenza, and Arsene a worried silence in the back of his mind, and Ren had gone and saved all of his team members. They had fought hard, all of them, their greatest battles to date, and had found newfound strengt in their bonds, and they had faced god and put their faith into Ren.

              And so.

Ren was standing in front of a god, and he did not listen to promises of an empty future born of betrayal, and

                                he                    

                                                killed                                             

                                                                  the god.                                                                            

(And then, there was darkness, and then: light.

And Morgana told them good-bye amidst tears and laughter as the Metaverse disappeared around them and around Tokyo, and it was finally, finally over, a bittersweet victory in the face of what they had lost.)

(Because they had gone into this last battle, this last heist where the treasure was humanity's freedom, with the possibility of loss, as neither the persona nor the humans knew how tomorrow would look. With the Holy Grail gone, would there be a Metaverse? And now Ren held the World in his hands, and he could feel--

Well.)

(Humanity had won.)

(Arsene had said good-bye, whispered a fond We shall meet again, an ironic echo of their discussion in the Velvet Room all of those months ago, and then he'd shattered the chains binding them together and ascended into something that was strong enough to withstand and kill Yaldabaoth, and Ren had watched with his heart in his throat and had been unable to say anything.

Satanael had killed Yaldabaoth, taking with him the other half of Ren's soul.)

They had returned to Leblanc tired and weary but proud, and Sojiro had taken one look at them and had ushered them towards Ren's room before closing up the shop, not that there was much clientele, anyways. Ren followed after his friends with a heaviness he hadn't felt ever since April last year, and an emptiness that seemed downright hollow, a mind so empty it felt vacant, Sae's words still ringing in his ears.

He stopped walking once he'd reached the middle of his room, suddenly unable to continue, as he took in the life that he'd carved out for himself in Tokyo.

He would miss this.

But now that Mona had done his part, now that Arsene had done his, it was time for Ren to finish it --

He sighed, thumbed at his collarbone in an aborted gesture of comfort, and sighed again.

(Haru noticed. The others did too, but Haru was the only one who saw the brief flash of pain that stole over Ren's face, and she squeezed her fingers into her palm to not immediately reach out for the other teen. She missed Milady immensely, too, and the feeling would probably only increase with time, but -- Haru had her Mako-chan, to weather the sudden loneliness in her heart. And the other Phantom Thieves, who all probably felt similar.

Ren? Ren had them, of course, but the people Ren had been closest to, those had been Morgana and Arsene, and to Arsene especially in a way neither of the other persona users could ever wish to replace. She shared a glance with Yusuke, who nodded.)

"Come here, Ren," Haru said, and then Ren was dragged into a hug, his breath hitching.

"We are here for you," Yusuke said, and Ren laughed, wrecked.

Their evening was spent in somber silence.

If only they knew, Ren thought, expecting a quip and not getting any.

He was gone the next day before anyone else noticed, and by the time the whole team arrived for their previously-planned post-heist meeting, Makoto was furiously scowling down at her coffee and Futaba was crying, not that Ren was there to see it.

("At least he's not completely lonely with the big guy there, right?" Sojiro asked the other teenagers, which promptly led to Futaba crying even more.

"They're gone." Takamaki said. "It was the price we had to pay.")

Ren placidly followed after Sae, his posture still confident and self-assured, and he did not let the officers put words into his mouth that he didn't do, unlike the first time. After all, all of this had started with being sent to juvie, and all of this was ending with being sent to juvie -- how fitting.

Hearing that Shido would be prosecuted was only icing on the cake.

Ren got to spend all of two months in juvenile hall, where he got to pick up the pieces that were left of him, never letting go of his resolve. It wasn't too bad, all things considered -- certainly better than his first stint before he'd been sent to parole, and on one very memorable occasion on an otherwise very dull Thursday the hall was visited by an amateur magician who put on a show for them before disappearing before the guards even noticed.

("It just happens," one of the other teens said, holding a white rose in hand. Another had a boquet, like Ren himself. "We've stopped questioning it; every year on the same day, like clockwork. Apparently he's been appearing for six years now, and the guards never once caught wind of it or believe us."

"They think we pluck the flowers from the garden, like heathens!"

"Some of the more romantic guys think that he's the KID." Another said. "Can you believe it? As if. KID isn't even in the country right now!"

Ren had glanced down at his own plants, made up of each a single bellflower (or so one of the others said), a carnation, a wisteria, and a xeranthemum -- all very European flowers. Something like foreboding urged Ren to press those and to keep them, if for nothing else than as a reminder of that very entertaining day.

He would then promptly forget about the flowers until one bored afternoon in his hometown, which would prompt him to research their meaning, which would leave him staring at his laptop screen for a good minute or twenty. But that was for later.)

Ren's sleep, which no-one could describe as 'restful' even before all of this, had been getting worse by the day without the familiar presence of Arsene at his side, and Ren missed his persona fiercely, and he missed their quiet evenings when he would preen Arsene's wings and the persona would thrum under his fingers, a happy and relaxed sound, and his face would be a warm glow of embers.

Ren missed their nonsensical discussions, and he missed Morgana's annoyed quips, and he missed the way Arsene's claws would card through his hair or how his palm would usually rest against Ren's nape when invisible, a chokehold on his neck that was so comforting.

Ren simply… missed Arsene. Missed him like something broken that couldn't be fixed.

Sometime during the first month in juvie, he'd gotten hold of one of the Arsène Lupin novels, sadly in Japanese, and proceeded to re-read it again, much to the confusion of his annoying roommate. It brought back memories from the first time Ren's given Arsene the books to read, shortly after the whole Kamoshida debacle had been finished. Ren had asked him, all very excited, if what was written in the books was accurate, and Arsene had dimmed while he'd been reading his second novel. I would not truly know, he had said, for I am not... truly him.

Ren had been confused then, because all of the persona were real people, too. Arsene had often talked about his exploits as a gentlemanly thief, after all.

The explanation that followed had been kind of confusing, but it boiled down to: Arsène Lupin was a literary character modeled after a real person, but a literary character nonetheless. Arsene the persona was the literary figure, but he was the literary figure how most people remembered him by; a gentleman thief from France who was a master at what he did, who sometimes had a rivalry with Sherlock Holmes. I feel as if I have lived through the adventures, but I know that I am not he. If thou were to ask Carmen, she would tell thee the same, I'd reckon. Unlike Kidd, who has been a real sailor amongst men, and thus he has real memories, only --distorted. I cannot explain it better, little thief.

Ren, after having wrapped his mind around that weird concept, had simply shrugged. "...if it feels real to you, then it has to be, on some level, no? And if you think those memories are fake, then simply make new ones together."

In hindsight, that was an incredibly sappy thing to say, and wow, Ren really had been gone from the beginning. Ryuji hadn't been kidding in Hawaii.

Ryuji, ugh. He also missed his friends. He missed everyone, and wallowing about it at -- Ren turned to the digital clock -- two-thirty in the morning was not productive. He turned around in his (too empty, not the right temperature) bed and curled in on himself to quieten the sorrow he was feeling, and forced himself to sleep.

He opened his eyes almost as soon as he closed them, it felt like, and saw blue.

Ren jumped up, all sleep forgotten, and came face-to-face with the Velvet Room's blue decor, different from the last time that he's seen it.

"Welcome back, Trickster." Igor's high-pitched voice greeted him, so unlike the Grail's had been. "It is good to see you once more."

Ren felt something bubbly work its way up his throat. He had so many questions, but first--

he bowed, at a perfect 45° angle, and chocked back the manic grin that was about to spread across his face at Lavenza's polite-yet-baffled expression. "Thank you for having me back."

Igor laughed. "My, how polite you are now. And confused, too, I see."

Ren remained silent and glanced around in hopes of seeing a familiar persona, nudged the still empty space in his mind in askance. Igor continued with a too knowing smile as he fanned his fingers together.

"We wish to offer you the services of the Velvet Room once more, Trickster."

Lavenza nodded. "The interference of Yaldabaoth has forced us to close the door and withdraw your contract while Master Igor sorted everything out; now that the Grail's essence has been purged from the Velvet Room, you may use its services to your leisure, even if your story has ended."

"Yes. I am afraid that our services have been quite sub-par until now, and I wish to remedy that." Igor held up a card. The side facing Ren looked disturbingly like the Metaverse Navigator app that had been on all of the Thieves' phones. Ren wasn't interested in that, though.

"So our persona will come back?"

The Master of the Velvet Room raised a too-knowing eyebrow. "If the same fire of rebellion still burns in you, and if you still feel your bonds, then yes, your persona will come back, Trickster. You simply have to re-install the application once you are reunited with your fellow holders, and your contract to this place will be restored."

Ren nodded, and opened his mouth--

"Your Magician will be back as well, yes. And I have an additional service for you. Consider it a present, if you will." Igor flipped the card, a symbol similar to the Metanav app on it. "This opens the navigator to a palace not dissimilar to my Velvet Room in function. My impostor should have given it to you to aid in your story, but now you shall receive it as a reward instead. And now it is time for you to wake up, Trickster."

"You're being pardoned," one guard said the day after, sourly. "Niijima-san will be along shortly to explain the details to you."

Makoto's sister was indeed, and she did, telling Ren how his friends and confidantes did everything that they could to get him out; and while Ren suspected something like that would happen after the visit to the Velvet Room, he still was overjoyed. It seemed that his mood was infecting, because Sae also cracked a grin.

And then he was released the day after, and Ren packed his meagre belongings, his novel hiding the pressed flowers and the card he'd woken up with, that somehow had followed him from the Velvet Room, and he stepped out a free man without a single stain to his record, and Sojiro was there, waiting with a fond scoff for him. "You're late," he said, and then proceeded to open the passenger door for Ren and hand him his phone and a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Boss."

Sojiro's lips quirked upward. "The others missed you a real lot, kid. Went as far as to track down the woman that Shido assaulted with the help of your reporter friend, so that she could testify against him."

A second of silence, and then: "I missed you too, I guess."

Ren hid a smirk behind a sip, the warmth of the coffee fogging up his glasses. He could take them off, but he's grown used to them. Instead, he powered up his phone, a barrage of unread messages making it vibrate like crazy -- he thanked all of his confidantes for their help but ignored the messages from the Thieves' group chat, considering he would be seeing them in a few minutes. The rest of the ride passed in companionable silence until they got stuck in traffic, and then Sojiro cursed up a storm about going to be late.

And then they were in front of Leblanc.

Ren walked inside to the joyous laughter of his friends, and Sojiro went to buy groceries.

Futaba hugged him and didn't let go, and Ryuji punched him in the shoulder, and Haru hugged both Futaba and Ren, and then he was sitting on one of the bar stools while Makoto brought up the missing Morgana, and Ren was about to tell them that, no, our not-cat is actually still alive, thanks to Igor -- the person that the Grail had been impersonating, you know, when all of us were thrown into jail cells and also our persona are one vaguely sinister contract away, when the bell above the door of the café chimed and Morgana strolled in, all faux nonchalance.

The room erupted into renewed chaos.

Yusuke turned to Ren. "You did not seem surprised that Morgana was still alive despite what happened back in December."

"Ah, yeah--" Ren begun, and everyone turned to him. "Just before I was pardoned I had a dream about the Velvet Room again, and Igor told me that Mona was still alive."

"No way, dude! And you trust him?"

"I have to agree with Ryuji on that one, Ren."

Ren nodded in acknowledgement at Ann, before continuing. "He seemed remorseful enough, and he offered me continued patronage of the Velvet Room and all of its facilities as compensation for what happened."

He let it sink in, that sliver of hope, and it was Morgana that asked, "wait. Does that mean--"

With a flourish belonging straight to Joker, Ren pulled out the card he'd been given, the Metanav symbol glaring at them. Haru's breath hitched.

"Oh. What- what do we have to do?"

What indeed. "Hold out your phones? In a circle." They did, and Ren glanced back at the card and held it above them, waited for a breath and -- when nothing happened; how did one go about installing an app that leads to a metacognitive dimension anyways? -- very ceremonially said, "I accept the continued services of the Velvet Room and everything that it entails. And want to re-establish our contract."

The card glowed, briefly, so bright that it hurt to look at, and then disappeared into motes of light, and all of their phone screens lit up, one after another, the newly-installed Metaverse Navigator app blinking into existence. Morgana's fur had bristled up at it, but that really was only second to the much more pressing manner of--

Arsene?

Silence, at first. And then: I did tell thee that we would meet again, did I not? Well met, my little thief.

Ren chocked back a surprised sob, the others not doing much better. I missed you.

Arsene's emotions curled around Ren's insides like heavy smoke, seeping into his bones as if they belonged there. He thrummed, affection-love-missyoutoo, before continuing, oddly pensive. Thou know what must be done, first: I am thou, and thou art I.

Ren repeated the words, and it felt as if something clicked into place, as if a fog that he had been wandering through had finally cleared.

Somewhere to his left, Ann laughed, relieved and free, and then reality tilted to the left and the persona were all there in the room with them, having materialized, and it didn't matter that the previously-spacious room inside Leblanc was reduced to elbows in the ribs and shoves to the side, because Arsene was nuzzling into Ren's neck like a particularly affectionate cat, his mask digging into his collarbone, and he was thrumming at Ren about everything good in the world and burning like a furnace.

The doorbell chimed. "I hope you kids don't mind that I've invited Niijima-san and Kawakami-san over, funny how we've run into each-- uh."

"Well, this sucks," Morgana meowed, perched on Zorro's shoulder. Zorro flicked him in the forehead. "Language, Mona."

The persona froze, unsure how to act, now that there were more people entering the café, and all three adults let the door fall closed with a thud, the teacher leaning heavily against it in shock. Arsene, the extra idiot that he was, merely disentangled himself from Ren enough to dip his head in greeting. "It is good to see you again, Hierophant." He turned to the two women. "Judgement. Well met, Temperance."

Ren tried valiantly not to snort at the blasé attitude.

He was failing miserably.

(Sojiro sighed and glared at Futaba, conveniently ignoring the dying noises that Kawakami-san was emitting. His look was the very definition of 'parental exhaustion'. "Futaba, didn't you say they were gone?"

"Um," Futaba said, cradled in -- Necronomicon, was it? -- Necronomicon's tentacles. Sojiro tried to ignore it for his sanity. "Everyone's back?"

Necronomicon beeped in agreement, whizzing noises that made no sense but seemed to be universally understood by the Phantom Thieves. Sojiro sighed, put-upon, and glanced down at his bag of groceries. Glanced back to the one bag Niijima had managed to wrestle from him, and then to the group of persona. One of them was a-- motorbike. Most looked human enough, though the one with a hand on Okumura-chan's shoulder seemed to have no face whatsoever, as she was only holding a fancy mask to her face.

Sojiro was happy for his kids and their friends, really, but couldn't the persona have waited to reappear later?

"...I don't have enough groceries to cook for everyone."

Kawakami-san chocked on another noise, and Sojiro had the feeling that she was close to a panic attack. Niijima was a silent spectator, though she had nodded a greeting at the motorbike -- Johanna, was it? -- before doing damage control with the teacher.

The persona next to Takamaki grinned at him. "There is no need for that, Boss. We shan't bother you, except for a coffee for our residential gentleman thief."

Arsene seemed to roll his eyes, but Sojiro's hospitality belatedly kicked in. "I'm sure I can come up with something for everyone, though."

"Thanks for th' offer, lad, but we ain't so hot about staying materialized for so long. It is much appreciated, though." That was Sakamoto's persona, the pirate one, and it disappeared to the sound of whirring electricity, and the lights seemed suddenly, strangely, brighter. The other persona followed it, everyone disappearing from view with their own little effect, until only Arsene and Okumura-chan's persona remained, the latter squeezing her human to her side before letting go of her and turning towards Arsene.

"Do stay around, darling, you know we don't mind it. Have fun! Tell us about the taste of the coffee later."

And then she was gone, too. Arsene, somehow, seemed much more perkier, and Sojiro felt a weird and detached sort of acceptance that he noticed that the persona had been anxious before, with his drooped wings and all. It only showed that the weirdness that seemed to follow the Phantom Thieves around was finally rubbing off on him. He spared the teasing group of teens one last glance -- Takamaki and Sakamoto were ribbing both Ren and Arsene about the latter's unorthodox behavior in a good-natured way, and Sojiro was glad to see his kid smile again -- before he turned his attention back to the two women who had entered with him.

"...I'm going to prepare the food. Uh, Kawakami-san, would you like to help in the kitchen?"

She blinked at him. "I-" Swallowed. "No. I'm alright. Though, an explanation would be… useful."

Sojiro nodded. "Right."

He turned around. "Ren! Why don't you make drinks for everyone while I prepare the food. Who of you wants to help?")

Ren blinked, caught off-guard, but nodded. Haru, Makoto, her sister and Ann went to help Sojiro, and Kawakami-sensei carefully inched onto the barstool furthest away from Arsene, whose amusement was warming Ren up from the inside. Everyone else migrated to the free seats, and Morgana glanced at the teacher with a worried expression before he decided to amble over to her and meowed at her, quietly.

She begun to pet him, on autopilot, and then she hugged him to herself and Ren though that he really should explain everything to her, because she was looking kind of shell-shocked.

But first. "Yusuke, Futaba, Ryuji, do you want coffee as well?"

"Nah, man, not today."

"With cream and sugar, yeah."

"...as black as our hopes had been, on Christmas."

Ren paused with rinsing the cups. Even Kawakami-sensei stopped with her petting to glance at Yusuke with a worried frown. "Is everything alright, Kitagawa-san?"

Yusuke nodded. "Merely an art block that has been keeping me up at night. I have not slept for two days because I have a deadline and no inspiration has struck me yet."

"The fuck, Inari?"

"For real?!"

"Language, Futaba," Ren said, before frowning. "Yusuke-"

"Yes. I will go to sleep today. I promise."

"Good. Kawakami-sensei, what kind of coffee would you like?"

The teacher made a face and resumed petting Morgana. "Anything not too bitter, I guess."

Ren nodded. Arsene hummed. "What, thou do not ask me, but everyone else?"

A raised eyebrow. "You always drink it the same way."

"Yes. Thou see, it was recommended to myself by quite the charming fellow, who said it was his favorite kind, and I simply had to try it."

Ren flushed at Arsene's smug expression. "You incorrigible flirt. See if I'll make it differently."

Thou would not, Arsene thought. A fond sigh escaped Ren. He wouldn't, not really. Kawakami-sensei glanced between them, confusion clearly written across her face. "Am... am I missing something?"

Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, sensei, it all started way back in April with Kamoshida…"

The next day was Valentine's Day, and Ren had fully planned on spending the whole day up in his room in the attic with Arsene, catching up on those lost two months, but it seemed that fate had other plans for him.

Sadly, Ren did not notice those until it was too late.

See, here's the deal: Arsene had woken Ren up by first sneezing (literal sparks of ember landed on his neck, because lately the demonic persona was fond of nuzzling into the skin there) and then moving away from Ren (taking with him the human's comfortable and cozy blanket of fluffy feathers), and thus, faced with the cold, Ren did what anyone might do in his situation.

He whined and turned blindly in the bed until he found some part of Arsene and then tried to burrow into the persona's arm, ignoring the noise to his right.

Good morning, mon petit voleur, the bastard said, all chipper. I take it that thee slept well?

Ren cracked an eye open to find himself pinned underneath Arsene, a leery grin spreading across his mask, lighting the whole thing up with white-hot fire. Ren returned it, much softer and still very sleepy and maybe a bit grumpy. Until I was woken up so rudely, yes.

Alas, Arsene hummed, wings fanning open, then I must remedy that immédiatement, non?

Hm. I might be persuaded with a kiss, Ren said, and reached for Arsene's horns to pull the persona down, the latter's amusement and satisfaction curling deep in Ren's bones.

The burn was a welcome feeling, the persona's heat spreading to his horns and making Ren press them closer together to relish it, clawed hands gripping at his waist to help in the endeavor as if they were not already One, as if there was a closeness beyond the one they shared that could still be achieved.

If there was, Ren was all for finding it.

There was another sound to Ren's left, louder this time, and he was annoyed by it -- but then someone said "oh, fuck me," with feeling, and another voice wailed "I tried to warn you!", and Ren and Arsene unceremoniously jerked apart as if burned.

(Well. Ren's lips certainly still felt the sting of fire.)

Sojiro, looking equally as embarrassed as Ren felt, stood halfway on the steps, one hand massaging his temples, Morgana circling around his feet.

Arsene, having faced and defeated a literal god not too long ago, did the utmost heroical thing of dematerializing without so much as a blink, leaving Ren to fend for himself. Ren, also having faced and defeated said god, could not fault him for it.

"Boss-"

"No."

Ren's heart did a not-funny leap. Arsene thrummed at him. Sojiro, not privy to his internal conflict, continued undeterred. "No, I am not having that discussion with you half-naked in your bed, kid. Here I was thinking 'well, he woke up before ten on a free day, I might as well call him down for a family breakfast.' And then you were still upstairs, and your cat looked kind of disgruntled, so I thought 'maybe I could get him', because it wouldn't be the first time you fell asleep again."

Sojiro sighed. "Now I see why Morgana was so agitated. Somehow, I'm finding myself being less surprised than I'd thought I would be. Get changed and come down, Ren, Futaba will arrive any minute." He turned around to walk down again, but stopped when his head was barely visible. "And tell Arsene that I'm expecting him to be present! It's only common manners."

Morgana, sitting on the topmost step of the staircase, looked flatly at Ren. "I tried to warn him, but this one's on you."

And then he disappeared downstairs as well.

Ren, kind of shell-shocked and kind of unsure where this would end up going, did just that. Arsene materialized before they started heading downstairs, his wings winched in and a sheepish expression lighting up his mask, soothing thrums calming Ren's heart. And then he stepped downstairs, Arsene behind him like the comforting shadow that he is, and Ren felt vaguely like that one time he'd snuck back home from a party he wasn't supposed to attend and was caught red-handed.

(It hadn't ended well for him, and he could still hear Akira's laughter ring in his ear.)

Futaba was grinning at him with the most shit-eating grin she could muster, sipping at her hot chocolate like the cat that had gotten the canary. Ren did his best impression of a deadpan while he greeted her and glanced at Sojiro, unsure how to proceed. The man snorted and handed both Ren and Arsene a cup of coffee and went to get them their food -- not, as Ren always notes with some mirth, curry, but some rice, fish and omelet. He sits down next to the still-grinning Futaba and does his best to appear indifferent and has to snort as Sojiro brings over a much smaller plate with fish for Morgana, who perks up and joins them at the table. Ren raises his eyebrows at it, but immediately regrets it when Sojiro talks to him.

"What? This is compensation for me not understanding what he wanted and dragging him upstairs. I can only imagine that it wasn't the first time if the first thing Morgana did upon waking up is coming straight down when he usually wakes you up."

Futaba laughs at his misery. "This is gold, oh hell, I can't wait to tell Inari and Ann! Ren, your face!"

He flicks a piece of rice at her, like the responsible young adult that he's supposed to be. Arsene tries to very innocently and gentlemanly sip at his coffee, which is really not working because Ren can feel his emotions and he also sees the deep red sparks sporadically emitting from his mask that travel up to the tips of his horns, which means that he's practically blushing as furiously as Ren is.

And then he proceeds to carefully tug a plate over to himself and claw at the fish there to put it on Ren's plate, who grumbles but doesn't push it away. It's always funny to watch the persona use his claws like some handy built-in chopsticks, because knowing how incredibly lethal they are and seeing how incredibly careful Arsene is when handling things such as steamed fish always makes Ren experience emotions.

Sojiro raises one eyebrow at the display. "So this has been going on for some time now?"

Futaba, the traitor, shrugs. "They were always like that ever since I joined." Then she blinks, and turns to Morgana. "Mona, did Ren and Arsene always behave this lovey-dovey?"

The not-cat meowed something Sojiro wouldn't be able to understand, but he waited patiently until Morgana finished and Futaba nodded, transfixed, while Ren ate his fish and tried valiantly to be Not A Part Of This Discussion. "Pretty much since the beginning, yeah. Ryuji's called it the 'Arsene-and-Joker-telenovela' on more than one occasion. He religiously watches them with his mother. No-one was surprised when they got together."

Futaba translated it dutifully, and then added, "Ryuji's not wrong about it."

Ren was ready to sink into the ground. Sojiro tried to valiantly withhold a grin. "I see." He failed. "Aren't you like, the same person or something, though?"

"I am the rebellion that resides in Ren's heart, yes," Arsene agreed, adding another piece of fish onto Ren's plate absentmindedly. Ren made a face -- he really wasn't that big of a fan of steamed fish, Arsene knew that! -- but ate it dutifully. "We art the same, in that regards, but a persona is also a representation of the mythological archetypes that dwell within a human's heart." He frowned, fire dimming down to a low flame, and even Ren stopped eating to listen to it in interest; this was news to him. "It is a truth every persona knows. I truly cannot say any more about these matters, and to be quite honest, I am as uneducated in them as ye, as the Master of the Velvet Room is the one that holds this knowledge. We art quite autonomous though, and you will find persona and user disagreeing over matters as much as agreeing over them. I think," here, Arsene pauses, and glances over Morgana's head at where Zorro would be, approximately, his gaze strangely heavy and far away. "I think that having as much autonomy and sense of self as our group has is unusual, though. Igor has yet to comment on it, but I could sense Yaldabaoth's dissatisfaction whenever my thief was in the Velvet Room."

Arsene glances down at his hands, then, and flexes his claws with the same heavy emotion running through Ren as the one that had prompted Arsene to echo the thought of If I were human, then-- , and neither Sojiro nor Futaba or Morgana knew what to say to the silent proclamation, and so Ren let himself fall against Arsene's side and thought comfort and home and love emotions at the solemn persona.

Arsene thrummed back at Ren, low and dissatisfied but still thankful.

"Well," Sojiro said, out of his depth. "This probably would be the part where I warn you to not break my kid's heart, but. Ren--" Ren flushed at being referred to as Sojiro's kid so casually, "-- you keep this one, do you hear me?"

Ren flushed even more.

(Later, Sojiro texted this new revelation to the Phantom-Thief-Support-Groupchat. Ohya was the one who created it and added most of them in the two months that Ren had been in juvie, and it consisted of all of the adults that Ren had befriended as confidantes, and Ohya's friend Lala Escargot. Sojiro was still unsure if the chat was to offer support to the Phantom Thieves or if it was offering them support for the Phantom Thieves' antics, and at this point, he was too afraid to ask.

And, well, it would be better to say that he texted the group chat with a single, nonindicative >:) and let it explode as Ohya texted a string of enraged question marks until the bar owner made her stop.

Miss Fortune Teller texted back an equally cryptic <3 <3, probably having foreseen the whole thing or something. Sojiro was certain that she knew about the persona, but he wasn't about to rat his kids out if not everyone in the chat knew about them.

You'd think, after what happened on Christmas, everyone would remember, but even Sojiro's memory was very fuzzy about that day; he knew the thieves did something downright impossible, and that there was a deity or something involved, and that it might have rained blood at some point, but it felt like a very bad nightmare by now.

then, Sojiro switched chats.

Sojiro blinked down at the screen and sincerely hoped that KID would only start holding heists when Ren was gone from Tokyo, because the Phantom Thieves' leader would probably try to take it as a challenge or something. And while it might be hilarious to see Kaitou KID go up against Joker, Sojiro didn't actually know if the former's no-harm policy would hold up against other thieves interfering in his magic shows. Who knows what going international could do to someone?

But also: the kid would be gone in a month. A month.)

It was several days later when Ren remembered the other feature that Igor had talked about, that had been printed onto the card. Do you know what this is? He'd asked Arsene, who hummed, thoughtful. I do not, mon petit voleur.

Well, it had been worth a shot.

"Hey, Mona. Do you know what this is?"

Morgana groaned but dutifully ambled over to Ren, the others not yet having arrived. They had planned on venturing into Mementos that day, to see how different it was now, without a Holy Grail to corrupt it. The cat glanced at the app, perched on Ren's shoulder.

"Okay, first off: don't involve me in your one-sided discussions without giving background info. Second: I have no clue -- wait, is it part of the Metanav?"

Ren nodded. "Yeah, Igor said that it opens to a palace similar to the Velvet Room, but I have no clue what that means. I completely forgot about it."

"Well," Morgana started. "If it was given to you by Igor, then it should be all right to use, I guess?"

"I guess we'll see when the others arrive."

And see they did: It was, indeed, not dissimilar to a palace or the Velvet Room. A building of some sort, located at the boundaries of the Metaverse like the Velvet Room and only accessible through the app like the palaces. It was currently empty, but there was a vending machine next to a central display and a wall covered with televisions and a lounge space and a second story where they'd all appeared when being shifted over. There was computer and music equipment in one corner and a wall with empty, fancy picture frames in another, an achievement wall and something that looked weirdly like a control panel from an old western sci-fi show near a corridor that, upon further investigating, led to a row of bedrooms, one for each of them.

The walls in that corridor were blank, with the exception of a single poster depicting their calling card.

The whole place reminded Ren of a cross between an art gallery, the Velvet Room and a bar, actually.

Everyone was certainly in awe.

After thoroughly examining all of the available rooms and spaces and the vending machine, which seemed to be inactive at the moment, Ren walked over to the control panel and pressed down on the center. The whole panel lit up and then rippled, and a spherical orb became accessible; it reminded Ren of those little balls that were stuck on the underside of computer mice to move the mouse around.

So he tapped at it.

>Welcome,< a voice echoed, >to Your Palace.<

Your Palace, otherwise affectionately titled the Thieves' Den by Ryuji and Haru, turned out to be exactly what the latter name indicated: a headquarters for phantom thieving that all thieves could access at any given time from any given location in Tokyo -- they tried it out by moving to different parts of their district, and it always worked, as they ended up materializing on the second story in a little spot that was marked with their masks, for bonus points. The place was their very own batcave, and they could decorate it to their hearts' contents, cognitive prizes and mementos (ha!) from all of their palace adventures being stored in the vending machine and waiting to be put on display (for some weird reason). Even all of the usually random palace background music that made Ren feel like some sort of video game character could be freely selected to be played in the hideout, which was really, really neat.

And probably the greatest thing about the place, other than the fully-functioning cognitive Crossroads Bar, was that the persona liked to stay materialized whenever the thieves were around, considering the place was still a part of the Metaverse. Now only time would tell if Ren would be able to access this place from all the way across in Inaba once he'd made it back home, in a week. But for now…

everybody was holding up a frizzy drink and gathered around a table. "Cheers to us for finishing the renovations!"

"Kampai-!"

"And you two look after each other, you got it? Morgana, you guys make sure they don't get into any trouble."

Ren and Arsene and Morgana and Zorro (because apparently the persona were expected to actually say good-bye in person, as far as Sojiro was concerned) stood at the entrance to Leblanc, and Ren tried valiantly to not cry as Sojiro saw them off. Morgana and Zorro nodded at the admonishment, Morgana meowing in loud agreement.

"And I expect all of you back by Golden Week, and any other vacation, got it?"

Ren nodded.

Sojiro sighed. "Good. And now off you go, the others are waiting." He paused, as if unsure about something, before muttering ah screw it under his breath and hugged Ren, hard, before disappearing back into Leblanc's kitchen. Ren smiled a wry smile before making his way to the train station, Futaba having come by earlier to steal away all but his school bag where Morgana was resting.

Arsene flickered along through reflections in windows and puddles, and soon, Ren was in front of the train station where this whole adventure had really started. He'd already said farewell to his other confidantes yesterday, and wished Ohya and Sae and the others good luck in their endeavors, and apologized to Kawakami-sensei for all of the stress he'd caused her in this last month with the truth.

He glanced around, searching for his friends, and was about to pull out his phone to call them when someone shouted his name. Ren turned around to find Ann waving at him, and he grinned and waved back, hoisted his bag and Morgana onto his shoulder again, and broke off into a run towards them. They'd managed to acquire a van from somewhere, and everyone piled into it after Morgana fixed something in the engine by hijacking a police car, and then they were off and driving towards Inaba, Makoto at the helm with the very sound argument that while Ren could drive,

a) it was his good-bye party

b) he did not have a drivers license (yet).

He glanced out of the window, Arsene staring back at him with Ren's face. We shall be back next year. The persona said it with such conviction, who was Ren to deny the words? Yeah.

And then they almost crashed into the car in front of them because it randomly braked and Makoto cursed up a storm as she drove around it and the serene moment was broken by cackling laughter from Futaba.

They arrived in Inaba early evening, after one last day full of sight-seeing along the way, and Ren was hit with a strange nostalgia as they drove through the town.

"It's very quaint," Yusuke said, and Ren hummed in agreement.

"It's very boring; the most interesting thing here is the Junes."

Ryuji blinked. "Isn't that like, a supermarket chain?"

"Junes owns everything in this town, trust me. At least as far as entertainment goes."

Silence, until Morgana groaned. "Are you kidding me? What can we do in this town, then?"

Makoto was currently in the process of parking the car into Ren's parents' driveway, still as narrow as ever, while Ren mulled Morgana's question over. "Hm. Go to school. Visit the shopping district. Visit Junes in particular. Go for a walk in nature, go to Junes. You can stargaze pretty well, actually, and when you're a preteen there's the local graveyard to hang out at night. And Junes." He blinked. "Oh. We have a mascot."

Haru carefully, carefully asked: "...at Junes?"

Ren beamed at her, slightly manic. "Exactly!"

"How didn't you go stir crazy?"

"Eh," Ren said. "I kept busy." Then, he glanced at the house -- his family's home, so it should really be also his house, even if it didn't feel like it -- and braced himself.

Thou know, my little thief, thee have never spoken about thy relatives during the whole year thou hast been away. Arsene was worried and confused, the emotions heavy and adding to Ren's guilt at the truth of them. All of them piled out of the car, and the thieves were already saying their last good-byes and well wishes, piling Ren with gifts and presents, when the door opened and Akira stepped out, looking exactly as Ren remembered him: an almost mirror image of Ren, his eyes only a shade murkier and his hair spikier; sans the fake-glasses Ren had grown so accustomed to wearing that he still hadn't taken them down. He was leaning against the doorframe.

"You're back later than mom expected you to be."

This was the moment Ren regretted not warning the rest of the Phantom Thieves (currently more-or-less disbanded though no-one believed that it would last longer than the year that Ren was gone). Ryuji, an undoubtedly scathing remark ready to leave his lips at the not-help Akira was giving, changed course last minute to blurt out, "what the fuck--"

"--does he look so much like you?" This, Ren surmised, was why Haru was his favorite thief: she saved the situation, however inelegantly. Ren tried to affect a nonchalance he didn't actually feel to reply.

"I told you guys that Akira is my twin brother, so obviously we'd look the same."

"Yeah, but this much? It's scary."

"Ah, but there are aesthetic differences. In the hair, for one, or--"

"Not. Helping. Inari."

Ren's lips tugged upwards at that, and then he exchanged one more hug with them each, and Makoto drove off, however reluctantly. Ren watched them go until the headlights disappeared from view and then turned towards Akira, who had not moved an inch from where he'd positioned himself.

"You're still wearing those fake glasses?" His brother asked, finally leaning down and taking one of the suitcases. "Mom is sleeping already and dad is off to work, by the way, considering you're what, six hours late?

Ren rolled his eyes, a stiffness settling over his form that had Arsene thrum possessiveness at him and that had Morgana huddle deeper into his bag. "And you're still part of your biker gang and wearing that tacky leather jacket?"

(Ren knew leather, okay? He had developed an appreciation for the material during his time as Joker. Makoto and Yusuke owned a pair of great leather jackets in the real world, and most of their phantom thieving outfits had leather worked into them somehow; Ren absolutely loved his red gloves. Akira's jacket? It was very tacky and not cut correctly.)

Akira flashed him a grin and a peace sign, and not for the first time, Ren wondered how his parents could believe that Ren would have committed assault when his twin was the one constantly getting into trouble. But then again, Ren usually was the scapegoat, because there's no way that perfect, brilliant, kind, smart Akira who jumped a grade when he and Ren had been in fourth grade would ever do something unsavory or law breaking --

Breathe, Ren. I am here with thee, as are Morgana and Zorro. Arsene's possessiveness spiked into animosity and then simmered down to a low-curling heat that held too many emotions that Ren couldn't parse.

They had bought all of Ren's luggage inside already, and the twins went into the kitchen, Morgana still tucked away in Ren's school bag. "Your friends are very… colorful," Akira remarked while reheating the welcome-home-lunch. To Ren's surprise, the other put double the utensils and plates down, which meant that he was either eating for a second time or had waited for Ren to come home.

Ren hummed a wry grin. "They're great. You could say that we're thick as thieves, even."

He went over to the counter and opened two wrong cupboards before he reached the small plates, taking one out and putting the smoked fish onto it before nudging his bag and Morgana's head popped out.

Akira whistled, low. "Didn't even notice him there."

"This," Ren said, his eyes daring Akira to contradict him, "is Morgana. He is my emotional support therapy cat."

His twin raised an eyebrow but remained silent and Ren, satisfied, continued with his dinner. Morgana had papers, even, courtesy of Kawakami-sensei and Takumi-san, that would allow him to accompany Ren to school. That had been a weird but welcome parting present, to be honest.

The rest of dinner passed in silence, which suited Ren just fine; if the past year has taught him anything, then it was that he wasn't the same person that had left Inaba anymore. He wasn't the same Ren as before. Regardless if the rest of his family had changed or not, Ren had, and it would be impossible to go back to the way things were.

That night, as he lay in his old bed cradled in Arsene's arms and with Morgana at his head, Ren thought about the year ahead, and how he would have to talk to the school tomorrow, how he would meet his parents tomorrow, after a full year of going without a single call or text or mail, thought about how many days were left until Golden Week.

He fell asleep to the soft glow of Arsene's mask.

Meeting his parents went as expected: his mother was already at work by the time he woke up, and his father nodded once to him in greeting and told Ren, "I hope you don't plan on doing anything as stupid like that again," to which Ren had to bite back the instinctive if it means saving a person, then yes while he watched his father leave for work.

Instead, Ren started unpacking all of his things, hanging up the poster of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts and putting all of the knickknacks onto his surprisingly-dusted shelves. Akira walked in just as Ren was fixing up the painting that Yusuke had given him, one of his many drawings of Mementos, and whistled, transfixed on the poster.

"You ever met the Phantom Thieves?"

Ren, with amusement curling low in his stomach, shook his head. "They first appeared at Shujin though, so all of the students became fast fans." And then, out of sheer curiosity: "What do you think of them?"

Akira grinned a wolfish grin. "They're thieves with an honor code, ain't they? Word spread everywhere about what they'd done on Christmas, though no-one's certain about the details. They must be living the dream."

Ren shrugged. They weren't, not really, not yet. Akira watched him unpack, entirely unhelpful, watched Ren fill his shelves with everything that he'd brought with him, and then, once Ren was done and Morgana was sleeping on his bed, Akira picked up one of the books -- one of the Arsène Lupin novels, in French, and something seemed to settle over him as he glanced at Ren, but he didn't comment on it.

Ren didn't, either, and simply shooed Morgana off the bed and into his school bag, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

"You don't actually need them, why're you still keeping them on?"

"Habit, I guess," Ren answered, and didn't say: to keep us apart.

Arsene thought enough mushy thoughts at Ren that he felt himself blush, and before Akira could ask, grabbed the bag and the papers and made for the door; they were meeting their mother at her workplace, and then they would go to the school to register Ren (and Morgana).

Halfway there Akira spoke up again, and Ren wondered if he'd always been so chatty and Ren never noticed or if it was Ren who'd grown fond of the silence. Maybe it was a bit of both. "So, one of those girls your girlfriend? The blonde one?"

Ren shot him a look. "No, none of them, considering that three are in relationships and one is the Boss's daughter."

Akira grinned without any shame whatsoever while they rounded the corner to the hospital. Morgana was glancing around in interest -- Ren had promised him and Arsene a look around tomorrow after school, once he'd settled back into the rhythm of the town. "Any other cute girls, then?"

A very Joker-like expression crossed Ren's face. "Well, no cute girls, no."

It took his brother a second until comprehension sank in, and then he blanched.  "Wait, you--" He frowned. "You're gay?"

It sounded very… well. Ren's good mood had evaporated, and he felt as if he'd swallowed something bitter and cloying, and it settled like lead in his stomach. Arsene was very pointedly trying to not let any emotional feedback seep through. He clenched his fists. In a town like this, where everybody always knew everybody, being different was bad. "So what if I am?"

Akira glanced around, like he was the cornered animal, and hissed lowly. "Listen, I don't care about that stuff, but if our parents find out, or if anyone hears about it -- you only just got back from juvie hall, Ren."

Our good name would be tarnished, Ren didn't finish, as if it was the most important thing to his family. Akira was a hypocrite; he was just as influenced by their parents' words as Ren had always been, even if he showed it in different ways. It was a careful balance of their parents playing ignorant and of them genuinely not knowing that Akira was not only part of the biker gang but their leader -- not even Ren knew all of the members of it, for all that he sometimes gets confused with Akira by some.

Ren had seen Akira beat up a kid because of some arbitrary reason once.

So Ren grit his teeth and pushed Morgana back into the bag, ignoring his indignant meow, and pushed past his twin. "You're ridiculous," he said, and let Akira come to his own conclusion.

"I'm sorry for my brother," Ren muttered to Morgana and Arsene both, but it was the cat that replied, his fur bristling.

"Why would he react like that!"

Ren sighed and lowered his voice even more. "It's not his fault, entirely. Our parents have some very… nuclear ideas regarding the family and how it should behave."

"Like sending their son away to a city he doesn't know for a full year and then not call him even once??"

"Yeah." Ren shrugged. "Why do you think I want to get back to Tokyo?" And then Akira caught up, expression contrite, and their discussion petered off, but not before Arsene thrummed at Ren, We are here for thee.  

Thank you, Arsene. And: less than a full year and I'm out of this town.

Ren's mother was just as he remembered her: he and Akira had gotten their hair from her, black and fluffy, and her expression was resting in a perpetual customer-smile that she'd acquired over the years. It widened when she'd noticed them, became warmer and more genuine. He smiled back, a small thing, but she seemed to not notice his discomfort. They waited for another ten minutes until her shift was over and then went to the bus stop, Ren's mother grilling him about Tokyo and Leblanc and his friends and then cooing over Morgana, honestly delighted. She'd taken the therapy cat excuse without batting an eye, remarking that "if that cat steps too much out of line, we won't keep him in the house, you understand? He can stay in the garden, but I won't have him destroy our furniture or annoy the neighbors."

And then they were on their way to the school, and Ren was treated like a new kid who's never set foot into the school before, but he'd expected that, if he were being honest. At least both his new homeroom teacher and the principal were willing to accommodate Morgana once Ren demonstrated how smart his 'official therapy cat' was.

His homeroom teacher smiled at Akira, and then turned to Ren. "I had the pleasure to teach your brother last year, so I expect much from you, Amamiya-kun."

Ren hummed an affirmative, but kept his eyes shadowed behind his bangs and glasses. The teacher smiled again. "Then we'll meet tomorrow at my office before lessons start." She scratched Morgana under the chin one last time, and that was it.

There was a Velvet Room door in Inaba, right next to the old bookstore where Ren had worked. It had been there ever since the first day Ren's been back, and he'd been inside a few times already, to talk to Lavenza and Igor and to listen to the music, or to simply escape his home, a haven in a stormy sea. He'd made use of its patronage that one time with the inquiry about the Thieves' Den, but other than that, he simply visited it every other week or so.

Sometimes, there was a woman talking to Lavenza, with the same eye and hair color but older, and Lavenza had introduced her as Margaret, "my older sister." Two more siblings rounded up the family, one older brother and another sister, both younger than Margaret, though Ren had never seen them before.

"Theodore likes the city more," Lavenza had said, "And Elizabeth is off on her own journey, so he helps her guest's friends out sometimes."

"You remind me of my guest," Margaret had told him once, looking through Ren's compendium with a hum. "Both of you are so selfless; I should pay him a visit soon."

It wasn't as if Ren had expected that the Phantom Thieves were the only persona users, but this all but confirmed it, especially because Margaret had added, "such a rare coincidence, that two wildcards would cross paths in the same town."

He had blinked at that, surprised, and had come back two days later with a question that wouldn't leave him alone anymore: "The Midnight Channel rumors and the murders that were linked to it, some five years ago, that's when we crossed paths, me and this other wildcard?"

Margaret smiled, a small and mysterious thing, and nodded. "Yes."

Ren, after no answer was forthcoming, prodded. "You want me to find him?"

The attendant laughed. "Only if you want to; your story is finished, after all, so whatever actions you take are your own. But Lavenza has been telling me that you are bored in Inaba, so I thought a little treasure hunt might excite you, Trickster." She toasted him with an invisible glass, and Ren felt his own smile break out. He liked her, this Margaret.

What do you say, Arsene? We hunt down some persona users?

It does indeed sound like a worthwhile task, the persona thought, a thrill running through them both.

Shiho was very easily convinced to join them on the hunt over the following days, after inquiring about the Midnight Channel.

"It was this thing the older kids were all talking about, that when you look at the television at midnight, you would meet your soulmate; after some time, it was found out that murder victims of a current serial case were being shown before they would wind up dead. I don't know all of the details, Akira was the one who'd heard about the latter part of the rumors from the older kids in the biker gang."

"That sounds… horrible." Shiho frowned. Ren shrugged.

"The murder was caught the same year he appeared, and there weren't that many victims, thankfully."

It does sound suspiciously like persona activity, though, Arsene remarked. Ren agreed. He was experiencing a high he usually associated with the Palaces' deadlines looming nearer, or with the end results of a particularly strong emotional resonance with Arsene, and it was delicious. They were in Junes, currently, browsing through the aisles and brainstorming who to stalk, when a stack of DVDs caught Ren's attention, neatly diverting his focus like nothing else.

He blinked. This-- was a priority, for whatever reason.

"Hey, Shiho?"

She turned to him, and Ren pointed towards his prize. "Wanna watch one of these?"

She walked over, furrowing her brows. "'Kaitou KID's magic shows from the last decade?' Why?"

He shrugged, not willing to admit that there was a nagging in the back of his mind that told him he was forgetting something. Arsene hummed, confused but intrigued. "It seems as good a way to pass time here as any."

"...I guess I can't say anything against that. But what about our investigation?"

That was true, but...

"The other persona users wont disappear if we start tomorrow instead of today. What do you say? My parents are off to work until the early morning hours, and Akira is… doing whatever. We could watch this."

"There better be popcorn and coffee, mister."

(They ended up watching the full DVD,  eight hours worth of magic shows and heist tricks that had Ren take mental notes in the middle, because KID was spectacular with a grappling hook. Arsene and Mona had joined them, Ren shamelessly using his persona as a personal pillow, Morgana seated and purring in Shiho's arms, the latter grinning at Ren. He tried to ignore it. Some of the shows were from America, even, just as fantastic and gravity-defying as the ones in Japan, and Ren fervently hoped to be even half as good a phantom thief as KID was, one day.

I'd like to think that we are just as good, Arsene commented, and nuzzled into Ren's neck after a particularly gravity-defying stunt. Shiho grinned at them while Morgana complained loudly when Ren nuzzled back, flushing red.)

The hunt resumed the next day after school, Ren's senses on high alert against anything, his Third Eye wide open in a way that he hadn't bothered using in Inaba before -- and yeah, this place certainly saw persona use in the past before. The Velvet Room's door was a constant presence like this, as was Arsene, shimmering see-through next to Ren, Zorro hovering over Morgana in a faint outline.

Time to find the other users.

(It took them three days of snooping around to find three users and two possible confidantes, especially once Ren found a pattern: all of them were friends of Yosuke-senpai's, and he mentioned them often enough that Ren could surmise who the missing members were from listening to him at work: Risette, who was currently off on a nationwide, last tour, someone called Naoto who may or may not be the same Naoto as in the First Detective Prince, and a guy called Narukami Yu who was working with some sort of government police or something with the aforementioned Naoto. The possible confidantes were catalogued as Teddie and inspector Dojima's daughter, Nanako, though Ren was not 100% sure on those.

It was actually quite disappointing that it had only taken them three days, because those had been three days of fun, doing things palace-invasion style. Shiho certainly had seemed to enjoy them, telling Ann and Ryuji all about it the following evening in the Thieves' Den while playing a round of go fish.

Yusuke, also present, turned to Ren with one raised brow, brush held loosely in his hand. "What shall you do with this knowledge, then?"

Ren grinned. "Send a calling card, of course; unless someone is against it. And if you and Ryuji could make them."

Goemon, currently loosing in a game of blackjack against Arsene, Captain Kidd and Carmen, waved at Ren. "Of course we shall do that. Four cards, right?" After Ren's nod, he turned back to his game, frowning. Glancing at his cards, Goemon glared at Kidd and Arsene. "One of you is cheating, I know it."

Carmen hid a smirk behind her hand and flashed an amused grin at Ren.)

The calling cards were ready by the next evening, and Ren sent Morgana to deliver them in the early morning hours, giddy with anticipation.

The next day, he and Shiho spent the afternoon at Tatsumi Textiles browsing through the fabrics and talking to Kanji-san's mother and then to a tense Kanji-san after his shift started, having planned an appointment in advance. Morgana was doing his best impression of a cute cat, with them for reasons, and Shiho was bubbling about making a plush for Ann as a present, the textile shop quickly having become their local Gay Woes Hangout(tm) over the last two weeks.

(It was a small town, okay? Ren was glad to have a hangout that wasn't the school or one of their homes, especially because he never knew when Akira was around, and things had been tense ever since the family outing.

Well, tenser than usual.)

It was quite amusing, actually, watching Kanji-san glance periodically towards the door as if waiting for someone, and he kept shooting Ren and Shiho worried looks as if they could be in danger by proximity.

And then the door opened, and Yosuke-senpai walked in, with Teddie and Satonaka Chie, sometimes-assistant coach at Yasogami High, and Amagi Yukiko, who was a surprise to Ren; he'd pegged her as a possible confidante and didn't send her a letter like he'd done to Yosuke-senpai, Kanji-san and Satonaka-senpai. Teddie, Ren had expected, considering he was the adopted brother of Yosuke-senpai (or something), but as for Amagi-san?

Eh. Whatever. He and Shiho shared a glance, equally as amused, and greeted the others before seemingly going back to their argument about the squishiness of the fabric they were looking at. Ann would love it. Ren was trying to convince Shiho that they should get something for Ryuji and Haru as well, considering they loved soft and squishy things, but Shiho was being the voice of reason and reminded him about the prices like a killjoy.

Kanji-san had turned to his friends, already used to their squabbling, just as planned. "I don't want to kick them out, necessarily, but..."

"No buts!" Yosuke-senpai hissed. "We don't know what these Phantom Thieves want from us! I'm not dragging Ren-kun and Suzui-chan into any danger!"

(Ren felt honored, and maybe a little bad for what he was about to do.)

"But aren't the Phantom Thieves supposed to be friendly?" That was Satonaka-senpai, a worried frown on her face. Amagi-san was the only one who actually managed to keep her voice down enough that Ren couldn't pick it up even with his enhanced hearing (paranoia and his Third Eye did wonders in that regard), and Ren let them stew around for a few seconds more, Arsene's amusement curling through his gut, before glancing at Shiho.

She had her phone out, ready to document everything.

He gave her a thumbs-up and turned around, clapping his hands together. Loudly. The bickering ceased abruptly as the others seemed to flinch back, and Ren settled into Joker like homecoming. "The Phantom Thieves of Hearts only steal from the guilty and wrong, and only send calling card to those they are certain that need a change of heart; meeting like this, all hush-hush, wouldn't that make you seem all the guiltier?"

He grinned at their confused and wary expressions, and continued. "Rather, you meeting like this, it confirmed a theory. Tell me, does the word persona mean anything to you?"

Yosuke-senpai sucked in a breath. "Hey, how do you--"

"Amamiya, Suzui, what is the meaning of this?"

Teddie's eyes widened. "Ah, this is beary bad!"

Jackpot.

Ren bowed, low, a showman's gesture, and Morgana circled around his legs to come out in front, sitting still in anticipation. A nudge at Arsene, and Joker's uniform materialized in a shimmering cascade, a neat little trick they'd found out the last month in Tokyo that was dead useful once mastered. Ren's mask was last to settle with a flourish under his fingertips, his other stretched out, palm open, towards the others in a come hither gesture.

He tapped the edge of his mask like a gentleman might tip his hat, and introduced himself. "I am Joker, leader of the Phantom Thieves, holder of the Fool arcana. Well met, persona users of Inaba. This," he gestured at Morgana, Yosuke-senpai and his friends too stunned to react, "is Mona, my Magician." A flourish at Shiho. "And Shiho, codename pending, my Art."

(Shiho blinked. "Art," she muttered. "What does he mean by 'Art?")

Amagi-san was the first to recover. "So you're persona users?"

"So we're persona users." Ren let himself relax, a wry grin tugging at his lips. "I'd love to say that this has to be fate, but truth to be told, I was bored and snooped around and had it confirmed by the Velvet Room attendants that Inaba was full of persona users; finding you was rather easy."

Yosuke-senpai's resulting affronted expression was rather comical, all things considered.

They talked until Kanji ("There's no need for honorifics now, wouldn't you agree?") had to close shop and then lingered around the front for another hour or two, exchanging tales about all of the weird adventures everyone had gotten into due to persona, Ren dismissing his uniform halfway through, the mental effort to keep it not needed. Shiho had blinked incredulously at some of the more outlandish stuff -- apparently the Investigation Team (cute little name if Ren were being honest) had entered their part of the Metaverse through old televisions, some of which still existed in a locked, personell-only room in Junes through which Yosuke and the others periodically checked the TV World and took care of the lingering shadows.

Ren had expressed an interest in entering the Metaverse that way, and then told them about the navigator app each Phantom Thief had that lead to Mementos, and Chie had whistled, impressed. She'd remarked that it sounded much easier than squeezing through a small TV and Ren had to agree with the sentiment, vividly imagining Yusuke or Makoto inelegantly falling through one.

Arsene had followed up with the mental image of Johanna or Captain Kidd with his ship trying to squeeze through, and Ren had to excuse himself for five minutes until he'd gotten his laughter in check.

Teddie and Morgana bonded, sort of, over being the token nonhuman teammates of their respective groups, though the fact that Teddie had apparently gained a human form was a sore spot for the not-cat.

Apparently most of the Investigation Team worked part-time with the Shadow Operatives, a private paramilitary organization made up of persona users and others in-the-know, working on shadow-related incidents. Ren may had to sit down at hearing that. He was suitably impressed, of course, but also --

Where had they been when Shido was still a free man, when Yaldabaoth emerged?

Arsene had thrummed at Ren, cooling down the hot spike of anger, and Ren had resolved to let Futaba run wild with this new information once he'd have the time to text the other Thieves.

And also: Makoto would want to hear about this, he was sure of it, especially if this group sometimes worked together with the police -- see Shirogane Naoto, First Detective Prince.

The two groups parted ways after Shiho's mother called her for the second time, with promises of meeting up the next day at Junes for an exploration of the TV World, and Ren and Morgana hurried home only to find Akira sitting at the dining table, fingers folded together. His eyes were hooded and half-mast, a sliver of almost-black visible in the darkness.

Ren stopped, frozen.

"Where have you been," Akira asked, hissed. "Mom and dad are worried about you sneaking around town."

Morgana's fur bristled and Ren crouched down, smoothing it back. "I was out with Shiho."

"Uh-huh. With Shiho. Doing what, exactly?"

Ren shrugged, leaning his weight onto his knees and dropping down from the crouch, appearing as nonconfrontational as possible. "We were shopping for fabrics and lost track the time while talking to Kanji-san and some of his friends."

At once, the tension left Akira's shoulders, and he seemed to sag into himself. "God, Ren, don't wander around Inaba at night, it's what's gotten you into trouble in the first place." He frowned, displeased. "I'll tell mom that you and Suzui were at Junes or at the shrine or something, and that you forgot the time."

Ren nodded, standing up again with Morgan in his hands. "Do that. I'm going to my room."

He left, not noticing the contemplative frown gracing Akira's features.

The TV World was fascinating.

Ren grinned, glancing around, noting the vibrant colors and mad shapes surrounding him, a location straight out of Alice in Wonderland. Arsene was coiling around his skin in anticipation, wonderment shared between them both.

Yosuke was beaming at him, still clad in his shift manager uniform, evidently enjoying it just as much as Ren. Morgana was walking circles around him and Kanji and Shiho, forever a regular cat after being brought back but being finally understood by the latter, talking a mile a minute at her, delighted.

Shiho didn't know where to look, overwhelmed and fascinated. Finally, she turned towards Ren. "Is Mementos similar to this place?"

Ren, taking in the wacky architecture and almost sunny clearing they were currently in, next to a giant stack of TVs, shook his head. "It's more… red."

Morgana snorted, winding around Kanji's legs. "This is a different part of the Metaverse, just as Mementos is. It seems much more peaceful, probably because Inaba is a town and Tokyo a city."

"Nothing ever happens in Inaba," Yosuke muttered, and then raised his voice, pointing a dagger into a random direction. "You guys wanna go search for some shadows? They're pretty rare these days, but one or two always gather."

Everyone agreed, though Shiho seemed somewhat reluctant. Ren bumped their shoulders together. "Don't worry, if anything happens to you, Ann would have my head."

Shiho snorted, carefully following after Yosuke's lead, Kanji bringing up the rear while he talked to Morgana. They were discussing cat beds, from what Ren could make out. "So chivalrous of you."

He rolled his eyes. "No, seriously; Arsene and I have your back. Nothing will happen to you."

"This Arsene is your persona?" Yosuke turned back towards them, interested, and Kanji also sped up to listen in, Morgana smugly riding on his shoulder. Ren hummed.

"Arsene Lupin, yes." Arsene preened, but Yosuke only blinked, nonplussed, and so Ren tacked on, "Gentleman phantom thief from France? Has a whole novel series? Mona's is Zorro, swashbuckling defender of the weak from Spanish California. Yours?"

Yosuke whistled. "You got international persona? That's so cool -- mine's Susano-o and Kanji's is Rokuten Maoh, so we're on the homefront."

"Your persona are literally gods, dude, why do you sound so disappointed. They probably don't like it." Morgana meowed, perplexed, and then jumped down from Kanji's shoulder and onto Shiho's.

Kanji snorted. "Our whole team only got Japanese persona, so it's always interesting to hear about others, yeah?"

That made sense. They fell into silence for the next few minutes, Shiho and Morgana conversing about their surrounding while Ren compared it to Mementos. He tried to not think about the frosty breakfast he'd shared with Akira and his mother that morning, focusing on the weird, fog-like mist that was gathering further down along their path.

Thou will have to talk to them sooner or later, little thief. Avoiding it further will only worsen it.

Yes, Arsene, Ren was very aware of that. It's fine. I'll be eighteen in  five weeks, and then it won't really matter anyways.

But it will, Arsene's emotions managed to convey, heavy and filling Ren with warmth in his stomach, and then with actual words: To thee it matters.

Ren thought about an answer, his focus redoubling on the thickening fog. That's-- hey. "Yosuke-senpai, is the fog supposed to behave like this?"

Yosuke grinned. "Congratulations, you found the shadows!" And then to Shiho and Morgana, "back when everything was still happening, the fog spilled over from the TV World into Inaba, and it caused all kinds of trouble -- everyone who wasn't part of Yu's social link forgot it again, though, and even for them it's foggy."

A blink.

Realization.

"Oooh, the fog! That was the catalyst back then, right? It was an awfully foggy year even for Inaba." Ren took the words in while they walked towards this fog. "Something like that happened to us too, on Christmas. An imposter-god who'd impersonated the Master of the Velvet Room let parts of Mementos bleed into Tokyo, and it rained blood, but pretty much as soon as we'd taken care of it -- nothing."

Yosuke, readying a dagger, squinted at Ren. "Yeah, that about sounds right."

There were three shadows of intermediate strength, Ren and Morgana teaming up for one and Yosuke and Kanji fighting against the other two. Technically, there really was no need to call forth their persona, all four of them strong enough to take them on with relative ease, but this was about showing off, and so Morgana materialized Zorro to neatly bisect their own all the while lamenting his lack of thumbs with which to hold his own sabre, and Yosuke's Susano-o made quick work of his shadow.

Arsene was huffing a laugh at the not-cat's eagerness to show off when Ren noticed that the third shadow -- the one Kanji was fighting against -- had made a (surprisingly smart) beeline for the only noncombatant at the edge of their battlefield, Kanji's expression showing his surprise.

Now, Ren was certain that the young adult was perfectly capable of killing the shadow before it reached Shiho, but he also was in the mood to show off, and so he touched his mask gently, reverently, and smirked, summoning Arsene.

Shiho barely had the time to register that a Shadow was headed her way before Arsene was before her and had made quick work of the thing, turning towards her with a flourish and tipping his hat.

The others were already making their way over, Yosuke jogging to catch up to them as he was the farthest away.

Arsene made a spiel out of dusting off imaginary dirt off her shoulder before taking a step back and straightening, staying to her right. "There; nary a hair out of place, as promised."

Shiho hummed. "Thank you, Arsene. Also, this was terrifying."

Morgana, used to Arsene, Necronomicon and Milady mother-henning them every-so-often after battles, shrugged. "It's not with a persona."

Ren nodded. "Told you we'd protect you, didn't I?"

She smiled, amused and fond. "That you did."

"Um," Yosuke said, "sorry to interrupt, but did your persona just talk? Out loud?"

Three pairs of eyes and one red-flaming mask turned towards him and Kanji. "Oui, I did. Why would I not?"

Morgana frowned. "Your persona do talk to you, don't they?"

"They do, sure, but only to us and not anyone else. Especially not to people without persona -- no offense, Suzui." That was Kanji. "And even then it's only like-- impressions. Emotions. Rarely outright a whole conversation. Telepathy."

"I mean, that too." Ren said, before glancing at Arsene, his fire dim in a not-fun way, his wings drooped and lacking their usual lustre. He remembered, with sudden clarity, the breakfast on Valentines', how Arsene had said that he thought that having as much autonomy and sense of self as our group has is unusual. How sad he'd been then, too.

"It probably has to do with how we awakened to them, actually," Morgana surmised, no doubt remembering the same thing, tail lashing around. "All of our persona are autonomous like that, my own Zorro included. Right?"

"Yes," Zorro said, now on Shiho's left. "Yours are not? We had been looking forward to meeting other persona and swap stories and the like."

"Uh--" silence, from Yosuke, before he looked sheepish. "Sorry, it seems that it won't be happening face-to-face. Susano-o is not too keen on materializing randomly without a good reason. To be fair, the persona belonging to the Shadow Operatives apparently don't even talk to their users, and from what I've seen so far, they're treated mostly like weapons, so." He shrugged. "It probably has to do with our awakenings. Still, this is really, really weird -- but cool."

Ren couldn't even imagine Arsene not talking, them not sharing a mind to freely converse with each other, and Arsene felt so lost and confused all of a sudden, as if Ren were touching an icicle to his bare skin, that Ren wandered over to him and bumped his shoulder against Arsene's side until one wing brushed against Ren's back, and then he twined their fingers together, and he dared either Yosuke or Kanji to comment negatively on it.

They didn't, the former because he was engrossed in a discussion about wind magic with Morgana and Zorro, the latter because he kept his mouth shut with only a raised eyebrow before he joined in on the discussion, something like an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

And then Shiho interrupted them, not aware of the tension and a little lost on the subject. "Wait, you have magical abilities?"

So, that might've been one aspect of the whole persona thing that the Thieves had forgotten to mention to her.

"Um," Ren said, and then shut up at her glare. She was getting very, very good at them.

"It is a carryover from us persona," Arsene explained, shooting an amused glance at Ren, just as glad for the break in tension. "Having a persona boosts a human's physical capabilities in the Metaverse, and they art able to perform the same type of spells as we do on a weaker scale."

At Shiho's continued blank look, he elaborated: "Joker and Oracle have previously compared us to Pokémon, if the humans in the Pokémon games would have the elemental affinity of their starters."

A look of dawning. Shiho nodded, apparently happy with the comparison. Kanji was shooting them an incredulous look. "Pokémon? How did you get the idea?"

Ren shrugged. "I'm actually a Wild Card, and when I tried to explain it to the others once, I came up with the analogy about the boxes where you store the 'mon's and shelving multiple persona in the Velvet Room, and it kind of stuck."

Yosuke snorted.

After that somewhat tense affair, things went back to normal for Ren -- relatively speaking, of course: he suddenly found himself with a handful of new almost-friends that took up time spent previously idling around in his home, which suited him just fine, and after the initial hiccup the local members of the Investigation Team had warmed up to Arsene and Zorro to the point where they didn't jump in surprise every time one or the other appeared. Yukiko had even brought Arsene a coffee as an apology.

Ren had told all of that to Margaret, in one of his now-weekly meetups, and she'd been happy. "My guest is sadly unable to come and visit right now," she'd told him scant a day before Yosuke had remarked the same.

"Yu's off on some secret government mission or something with the other users, so he can't visit." A shrug. "He'd been looking forward to it, too."

Ren had as well, not that he'd admit it out loud.

Still, his days were filled with more distractions than ever before in Inaba, and Ren found himself falling into a dangerous routine -- dangerous because it made him less cautious around home, where it sometimes felt as if even smiling was frowned upon by his parents, their shoulders always a tense line that carried over to Akira.

It was as if a weird restlessness had fallen over his family the closer Ren came to turning eighteen and being able to leave, and Ren found himself growing cautious as a result, creeping around his own home as if he were a thief. That lunch as well, where the clinking of the silverware that accompanied the Italian pasta echoed through the silence.

"You have been spending an awful amount of time on your phone with those friends of yours from Tokyo," his father had started, and Ren swallowed and put his fork down.

"A friend's birthday was coming up, and I was helping brainstorm a get-together."

A hum, and then the older man continued: "You've also been spending too much time at Junes without making any money in return, Ren. Why is that?" Unsaid went the you've been constantly out late and are breaking the invisible curfew we've put you on.

He was so glad Morgana was currently at Shiho's, because Arsene's bristling anger was more than enough for him to manage. "I'm friends with my shift manager and some of my coworkers, and we usually meet up there because it's the most convenient."

Akira was following their discussion like a half-starved animal, wary and with only his eyes, unsure when the hand would hit him, and for the first time in a while Ren noticed how much worse his brother was looking, compared to the beginning of the school year; Ren knew that there had been some strife in the gang, but that should not cause Akira to look so hollow-eyed and wan.

His mother, like almost always, remained passive throughout it all, silently condemning everything without a word.

Ren's father's lips pulled down. "And that includes meeting with one of your teachers and the Tatsumi… kid? Don't you understand how it looks, to outsiders? They and your so-called friends from Tokyo are clearly a bad influence on you."

"Satonaka-senpai is only helping our coach out because his usual assistant is on maternity leave; she's actually a rookie at the police academy." Ren's voice dropped an octave and something rotten curled through his sternum and choked in his throat, the phantom feeling of claws making Ren want to tear through the tablecloth. "And Kanji-san is a good friend. You have no idea who any of them are, so don't presume things you don't know."

His father was about to raise his voice in that terrifying way where it would first go all low and silent, in the same way that both Ren and Akira got angry as well, but Ren stood up from the table before it could happen, his chair scraping against the floor. "I'm not hungry anymore."

He left, before the resonance between his and Arsene's anger could lead to something unexpected; it had never happened, before, that he'd gotten such a strong impression of phantom limbs to the point where he'd been so sure that he could easily tear out someone's throat, and it was worrisome that it didn't worry him more.

Arsene was a bubbling, seething mass that made Ren's hair stand on edge. How dare he-! He does not know of the pain and sacrifices our Thieves have gone through, nor of the one the local persona users have faced. How-- why-- Then, quieter: I am sorry, Ren, I do not know what overcame me.

There's no need to be sorry, Ren said, winding through back-alleys on autopilot until he'd spotted Junes in the distance. Our anger is -- justified and reasonable Ren didn't say, because he didn't know how to word it, because the truth was that Ren had cycled through so many emotions when dealing with his family that the closest one he could muster was apathy.

I'm simply… tired, Arsene. Ren settled on, and then: "I think I lost all hope of a healthy relationship between us when they'd sent me off without a single word. I'm just so tired of dealing with them, Arsene."

Saying it out loud was cathartic, as was the barely-there presence of Arsene's claws at his nape, incorporeal out here in the open street but felt all the same. And then they continued on, to the staff entrance of Junes, and further still to the stack of TVs, and Ren let the static wash over him as he fell into the TV World.

Arsene caught him mid-air and gently set them on the ground, not bothering of letting go of Ren until a good five minutes later.

Ren was still loathe to separate, craving the embrace and the warmth of the gesture like a starved animal. I shall instruct Mademoiselle Shiho to hug thee more often, then, Arsene hummed, claws carding through Ren's hair. Thou art a much more tactile person that thee realize, little thief.

Maybe he was. Ren sighed. "Let's go and hunt some Shadows, Arsene." There were none in the Mementos found out here in Inaba -- he'd checked, while showing the Investigation Team the place -- which gave Morgana's theory some credit, at least. Ren would have to ask Igor, the next time the Master was present in the Velvet Room.

Fighting side-by-side with Arsene always was the most wondrous thing, their teamwork unbeatable, a single unit made up of two perfectly synchronized fighters; Ren could easily leave openings in his flank because he knew that Arsene had his back, and vice-versa. It made him forget some of the drama, even, if only for a little while.

Ren didn't know how long they'd spent clearing the few meagre shadows from the TV World, but by the time they were done, he was breathing heavily from an exhaustion that wasn't necessarily physical. Ren let himself fall down, right there onto the dusty ground, let himself fall onto hands and knees as tears threatened to escape his eyes. He balled his fists together, his fingers leaving indents in the coarse ground, his red gloves bunching up until the seams were visible, and Ren took in a breath, and held it.

He exhaled only when Arsene joined him, sitting cross-legged next to him, jacket and top hat dematerialized for the time being, face burning bright, flame red and flickering like a candle. He extended one wing to brush against Ren, and Ren sagged into it, properly sitting down on his knees, and then let himself fall further to the side and against Arsene, his wing hugging them together.

"Thank you," he murmured, and added gratitude and love, and Arsene replied with love-ofcourse-always-pleasure, thrumming deep in his throat like a bird might do, and they stayed like that.

And then a scream interrupted their serenity and Ren sprang up, tense, Arsene a shadow in his steps as they ran towards it.

One winding, mind-defying pathway later, Ren could make out familiar black hair and he cursed, deploying his grappling hook on a piece of not-architecture to give himself leverage to fire his gun at point-black range, killing two lesser shadows in quick succession, Arsene clawing through the third.

By the time Ren touched down on the ground again, a three-point landing with his gun still ready, the shadows were gone, only the formerly trapped human remaining, without a scratch, thank fuck.

Ren stood up and put the safety of his (toy-) gun back on, and dusted off his jacket. "What," he hissed, Arsene's flames licking up into the sky, "are you doing here, Akira?!"

Akira stared at him, petrified and mad.

(Akira stared at Ren, halfway petrified and incredibly, unbelievably mad with worry, and then he saw one more of those things, those creatures -- the one that had cleaved one of the ones attacking him in half, cleanly, with clinical accuracy, and the disapproving retort that he'd had ready for Ren died in his throat as he lunged at his brother, his little brother by five minutes, and tugged him behind himself, never mind the gun, hand an iron grip on his wrist.

The creature, possibly a demon, Akira wasn't sure, only saw the horned, masked face and the black raven wings and the fire and the claws, hiding beneath a veneer of a gentlemanly vest and shirt and a top hat that was missing now -- Akira had seen it enthrall his brother in the field before, had heard the silent bass as it lulled Ren into a false sense of comfort, and he'd rushed back the way he'd come, for his baseball-and-nail bat that he'd brought with him after seeing Ren disappear into a stack of TVs in the storage room where he'd followed his brother to. Intent, really, on saving Ren or something.

And then his little brother had appeared to save him from the three creatures that had surrounded him silently, the demon with him, and Akira had believed, for a split-second, that maybe it was not as terrifying as it looked, and then it'd twitched towards Ren, the flames on its horns distorting the air around from their heat, a claw twitching towards Ren, and Akira had --acted. On instinct.

The creature has stopped, now, its head turned to the side like a puppy's, its gaze cold and hard.

Ren wrenched his hand away with a glare and walked around Akira, who was rooted to the spot, something unbelievably, perplexingly sad in his little brother's gaze nonetheless.

"Ren," the creature said, a deep bass, and Akira had lost his brother.)

I know, Ren thought-spoke back, suddenly tired again, the weight of lunch coming back. "What are you doing here, Akira?" And then, as realization settled, "You followed me here?"

Akira flinched, guiltily, before taking stock of their surroundings. "I did, yeah." His indifference came back. "What of it? You go and run off in the middle of lunch and you don' expect me to follow?"  

Ren saw his posture tense, baseball bat held in a white-knuckled grip, and felt Arsene grow cold at the words. "Thou have been following us for quite some time, have thee not?"

Ren wanted to ask, but also not -- Akira scowled at Arsene with the posture of cornered prey. "I'm fucking worried about Ren! With good reason, apparently -- the hell kind of place is this, anyways? Or that?" That referred to Arsene, who didn't as much as shift a feather at the insult, but Ren had enough.

The mere idea that his family could find him whenever he was in the Metaverse, his one safe haven above all others, it just -- no. If his parents found out, they would find a way to take it away from Ren, just as they've been systematically taking away everything that brought him joy over the past two or three years.

"This is the TV World, a part of a place called the Metaverse." Ren glared at Akira. "It's filled with creatures called shadows that we take care of before they become a greater danger."

And it was Ren's and Ren's alone, not in any way, shape or form Akira's. They didn't share it.

The latter eyed him as if Ren were mad -- Ren was, only not in the way Akira thought. "That," he spat the word with disdain, "is my partner and persona, Arsene. We've been fighting together ever since last spring."

"Partner?"

"Partner, yes. Lover, if you want, or boyfriend, or soulmate. Arsene is not a thing, so don't call him 'that.' He's mine."

Arsene softened. Thou know that I do not mind, dearest.

Yeah, but Ren did, which meant that Arsene did too, only he hid it better. Ren was so tired of dealing with all of his --family and their antiquated and outdated and frankly wrong way of thinking, and he's tired of having to listen to his mother complain about Tatsumi Textiles or Kanji under her breath and then expect Ren to agree, and he's tired of having to lie about Shiho and Ann's relationship whenever Shiho is in the same room as his mother, and he just--

just--

With a flick of his wrist, Ren undid the safety of his gun and shot the leaping shadow squarely in the face with a flick of his tongue, and he let his eyes roam around their surroundings.

They were amassing too much negative emotion in a too-concentrated space, and the shadows were starting to multiply. He cursed under his breath. "Teddie did warn us, didn't he?" Louder: "We're continuing this conversation outside. Arsene!"

His persona dematerialized, and Ren grabbed Akira's hand and led him out without another word, stiff and tense and unlike the cool and collected Joker that he usually was.

(Akira was somewhere between shock and denial at his brother's words, and he followed Ren back without any other word, his mind replaying how he'd shot the shadow over and over and over again, a broken record.

This person in front of him was supposed to be his little brother, his Ren? The kid who was too scared to join Akira's gang, using a gun so callously? Having a demon for a lover, roaming around a fantasy world inside old TVs and killing things?

Akira didn't notice when they'd set foot down back in Junes' storage room, but he sure as hell noticed when the demon reappeared, called Arsene of all damn things because it couldn't even have a proper Japanese name, his flames lighting up the otherwise dark room and wait. Akira had heard that name before, had read it in the pilfered book from Ren's bookshelf. The one where he'd found flowers pressed inside, which he'd carefully put back in, thinking them a present from a secret -girlfriend. He licked his lips.)

"...'Arsene' like in your French spy novels?"

"Arsene like in Arsène Lupin, gentleman phantom thief, yes."

Ren waited for Akira to connect the dots on his own, not willing to give out any more information -- let's see how smart and talented he is now, he thought, and Arsene thrummed comfort-love-here at him.

The transformation on Akira's face could color pages in a book, Ren thought: he froze at first, eyes wide in shock, before he paled and let his bat drop to the ground. Akira flinched, the movement of someone on the verge of stepping back. "You're -- he's -- the poster. The goddamn books. Thieves. You're part of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts."

Ren clapped, sarcasm filling his voice. "Bravo! You're looking at the leader of the Phantom Thieves, even!"

He was just so, so tired of it all. "Surprise-!"

"Ren." Arsene's voice was firm, but not unkind. Worried, really, because Ren's heartrate still hadn't returned to normal, because Akira was still silent, staring at them.

Ren still wore his uniform like armor.

"...I take it that all of your friends from Tokyo are… like this?" Akira's voice was low, cautious, and Ren nodded, mouth a thin line.

"Yeah, we're all Phantom Thieves, and we've been through shit you can't imagine."

In the end, they talked until they had to go back for dinner, unless they wanted their parent's wrath to descend upon them, and Akira remained silent and still wary, but at least he promised to not reveal anything to the adults until he'd gotten the whole unfiltered picture, and Ren had decided to trust him against his better judgement.

That evening during dinner, Akira kept glancing at Ren out of the corner of his eyes, almost worried while Ren sat stone-faced and ate his seafood through his father's lecture. By the time the elder Amamiya was finished, Ren was as well, and he left them to it and retreated to his room, locked the door, and took out his phone.

(Arsene thrummed at him, worriedly curling around Ren's heart,)

"Open the Thieves' Den, please--"

--and he was surrounded by a cascade of light before rematerializing on his spot in the upper levels of their hideout. A quick glance around revealed that Haru and Makoto were there, and Necronomicon was hovering over the television, so Futaba had to be somewhere nearby.

"Ren!" Haru called, waving towards him.

He felt some of his good mood return and waved back before vaulting over the railing and grabbing the ledge, dangling there for a second, before he let gravity take hold of him and he dropped the rest of the way down, an invisible wind softening his fall.

Thank you, Arsene, Ren thought, and Arsene huffed. Thou art welcome as always, little thief.

Makoto rolled her eyes at his theatrics, but a small smile tucked her lips upward. "So good to see you again, Ren. How's Inaba treating you, now that you apparently left us for the better, more experienced persona users?"

"Nonsense, Makoto," Ren grinned. "I could never replace you guys. I'm merely… expanding my horizons."

Haru snorted. "Is that what we call it now? But really, how are you doing? We haven't seen you guys much, college's been eating away at our free time like hell. Oh, Arsene -- Milady et Johanna sont dans l'atrium."

(Arsene hummed in appreciation and materialized, as close to Ren as physically possible. "Merci, l'imperatrice. Je les rejoindrai plus tard.")

Ren, meanwhile, tried very hard to hide the grimace that overcame him at the innocent question, but both had noticed it -- Makoto's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

Ren, weighing the options of tell them and run away, decided that the latter would look even more suspicious, and so dragged a chair over to them and let himself sag down onto it. Arsene, true to his earlier remark, didn't wander off towards Johanna or Milady (Ren honestly didn't even know the Den had an atrium), but instead sat down next to Ren with a low-flickering flame that screamed 'If thou plan on lying to them I shall not respect that decision, Ren' and Ren sighed.

"So," he started, and stopped. Necronomicon could be heard whirring in the background while it continued programming something on the surround system. "So. I got into a disagreement with my parents about… things, and might've stormed away -- I wanted to cool off in the TV World, but Akira followed after me and ended up surrounded by shadows, and now he knows. Sorta. I might've exploded on him. So."

Arsene's displeasure radiated off of the persona, but he remained silent on the matter after a nudge from Ren. "And I also was wondering if your sister would want to help me divorce my family."

Makoto blinked, incredulous, and her expression was so downright dumbfounded that Ren had to tack on: "You know, getting emancipation, that sort of thing, as you do."

She was still blinking, mouthing who does so, so Haru intervened by asking him why he'd want to do that, considering he was almost eighteen anyways.

"Well," Ren stated, "I want to present them the court paper on my birthday so that there's no way whatsoever that they can forbid me from coming back to Tokyo."

"Ren, what the hell?!" Makoto hissed, jerking forward and bracing herself on the table in a white-knuckled grip. "What has been going on in Inaba that you'd want that? We should never have left you and Suzui-san there!"

Haru put a hand on Makoto's wrist, and Ren was happy to leave it at that, but then Arsene had to join the discussion by saying "Ren's parents are not quite unlike the late Monsieur Okumura, I'm afraid," and Haru's grip tightened imperceptibly.

"They're… like my father?"

Ren flinched. "It's more like the year apart highlighted some of their flaws more than I'd have liked, and it's become obvious that we won't be seeing eye-to-eye anymore." If we ever did was left out.

The younger Niijima heaved a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. I can talk to big sis and then she'll text you. Now to the other matter -- your twin knows?"

"Akira," Ren stressed, "knows, yes. And I don't know-- well. What to do."

"Is there a possibility that he will run to the local authorities, or that they will believe him?"

A good question. "Probably not." Because if Akira did, then Ren would do the same about the biker gang. Haru frowned.

"Should we invite him here, like we've done with Suzui-chan?"

"No!" Ren wouldn't-- allow that. No way. This was his, Akira had no right--

"I would advise against it," Arsene said, delicately, and Ren hadn't even noticed the wing newly-draped across his shoulders, the feathers soft and warm. He relaxed into it and remained silent, not knowing how to explain the rush of negative emotions even the mere idea brought him.

Makoto narrowed her eyes. "I can kind of guess why, I think, but. Okay. No Akira in the Thieves' Den. Would you rather we drive over to Inaba and have a talk with him there? Next weekend, with the others? Then we can also finally meet the Investigation Team."

Ren opened his mouth to reply--

"Oooh, are we going to visit Ren-Ren? Count me in!" Futaba grinned, re-emerging from wherever she'd crawled in. "I miss annoying you in person."

Ren huffed a laugh, taking the unforeseen opportunity for what it was. "Thanks, bug. What were you and Necronomicon doing?"

Futaba held up her prize -- a microphone. "Who's up for some Let's Dance or Just Sing? We've just finished connecting the console to the TV."

Haru's eyes lit up, but Makoto shot Ren an annoyed glare at being interrupted.  

Arsene eyed the microphone with interest. "May I suggest persona against humans?"

Futaba's grin widened.

(Ren wasn't sure who won in the end, only certain that all of them had great fun, which probably had been Arsene's intent with dragging the persona into it, considering that of the four present, one was a motorcycle, another a UFO and the third didn't really have legs inasmuch as she had mechanical joints -- though Milady proved to be the best dancer, as was Haru.

Ren fell asleep in his bed with no bad dreams or worries for the first time in a while, and he slept through the night until the next day without any interruptions.)

(Akira was living in hell, currently, because now that he knew the truth about Tokyo -- or part of it, at least -- it was easy to see, how what was previously believed to be absent-minded behavior on his brother's part was in fact, probably, that demon thing talking to Ren, from wherever he had disappeared to:

And Ren would smile faintly, truer and brighter than when he smiled at his classmates or Suzui-san or any of their parents, and something foul and rotten curled in Akira's gut when he'd notice it, over the next few days. His brother had told him to keep his next weekend free, with a scowl and that annoying neutral expression he'd adopted ever since the incident happened the first time, polite but blank and without any emotions, and Akira had done so with surprisingly minimal complain.

Worse, even, Ren always knew when Akira was following him, and so he would excuse himself from Suzui-san or the Junes's manager or his other new friends and turn around and stare at Akira until he emerged from his hiding place, somehow always able to find it. Tatsumi had raised an eyebrow in recognition, and Akira tried not to flinch away from the former bike gang leader while he was being scrutinized. Tatsumi remained quiet and cordial, as did everyone else while they planned out something, using words and names that Akira didn't understand, and Akira was left to stand next to their group as an outsider only there because of his brother.

It was... disconcerting, because usually Akira was the one who dragged Ren into his friend circle so that his brother wouldn't always be constantly alone.

It was even worse when he could swear that the demon was staring at him, invisible to everyone -- and they liked him, all of Ren's new friends-! Amagi-san would offer a cup of tea to the air whenever they were somewhere secluded enough from regular people, and the demon materialized sans top-hat and overcoat and thanked her, and drank it while staying near Ren. And sometimes a second one would join, blue and stocky and calling himself Zorro and belonging to their new cat, and both demons would talk silently before the blue one disappeared again, and Arsene would lay a hand onto Ren's shoulder, deceptively gently, and no-one would remark upon it.

And the sad thing is, Akira mused, when he finally parsed out that all of them were so excited because Ren's friends were visiting on the previously-remarked-upon weekend that Akira was supposed to keep free, and Suzui-san was happy to finally see her girlfriend again, and the demon users of Inaba were happy to meet the Phantom Thieves, and Ren --

Ren was so obviously fucking glad to see them that it showed in his posture and demeanor and smaller tells, and he was so relieved that Akira had to bite his lip until it started bleeding before he would remark upon it and ruin his brother's happiness, and it hurt.

It fucking hurt, that the Phantom Thieves whom Akira and his gang had admired before, that they were a band led by his little brother and his friends, because the Phantom Thieves stood for justice and honor amongst the misfits of society, but they were led by Ren. It hurt that Ren never once thought about telling Akira about it until he'd been forced, and it hurt that Ren seemed to consider the other Thieves more his family than his own flesh-and-blood one.

It hurt that the demon had come to Akira, had easily picked his lock and entered his room the day after, and had spoken to him. Thou have hurt Ren badly, he had said, looking horrific.

And: Ren has been worried that ye could've easily switched places in his story, which is utter foolishness -- for all that thine appearances are strikingly similar, the truth is that only my Ren has the potential to be a Fool, and thou do not.

And: The difference, foolish child, is that my thief doubts and questions, while thee do not.

Akira hadn't understood then, hadn't wanted to understand, because the truth -- the truth was that the demon was right. These past few days with unwillingly trailing Ren had given him more to think about than the past weeks in which he'd been back, because he'd stepped foot into a world he shouldn't have.

It was a world that Ren seemed to thrive in, but it was a world Akira found utterly terrifying.

It was a world he had no part in.

Akira had lost his brother, that day when their parents didn't believe him about the politician, when they'd caught Akira wanting to text Ren the first week in Tokyo and had told him "it will be for the best to not contact your brother while he goes through this; we wouldn't want to hurt his growth as a person," and Akira had thought yeah, of course, makes sense, and ignored his brother's phone number for the whole year.

Had lost him to a group of friends and a demon lover with honey-sweet words who Akira was terrified of, who was so utterly menacing that he came right out of Akira's nightmares but who held Ren so adoringly in his claws.

Akira had lost Ren as a brother, too, to Sakura's daughter who ran at Ren with full speed and tackle-hugged him even before the van had stopped rolling into the parking lot of the Amagi Inn.

The last thing he thought, before the brown-haired driver turned toward him with a stern look and the blonde punk frowned and the weird artist kid made a face of displeasure in his general direction, was at least they treat him better than we ever did.

And also: Our parents won't like this.)

The next morning found all of the teens (and not-cat) gathered in the living room while Shiho's parents were cluttering around in the kitchen, giving them some much-needed privacy. Akira even seemed to have found some of his equilibrium back, lounging on the sofa as if he owned it, tired eyes sharp once more.

Ren was glad.

Shiho, tired from a short night of sleep, frowned. "If you're not up for school I won't hold it against you, Ren."

Ren sighed. He knew, but. "I'm going. I'll be fine." A pause. "Akira, what about you?"

"I only have to work half a shift, so I don't have to leave until one in the afternoon. And I'll be back by six." Akira said, thoughtful. "So stop worrying so much; even if I still can't believe that yesterday happened -- it feels like a fever dream, and it's even stranger that it's our birthday today."

Ren huffed, amused. "I can believe that. I missed my birthday last year because the Phantom Thieves had to deal with Medjed's deadline and then completely forgot about it until, like, two weeks later."

"You could've told us," Morgana hissed, and Shiho grinned while petting his head. All of the Thieves had given him the same flak, but Ren still flushed every time they brought it up, Akira looking at the cat with a vaguely lost expression.

"To be fair, I had some other things going on--"

Shiho's expression split into a devilish smirk that was all. "You mean, and I'm quoting Ann here, 'falling into a relationship'. Quite literally, if I might add." She added, for Akira's benefit, and Ren despaired when even Arsene radiated amusement at the direction their banter had taken.

They aren't exactly wrong, now, are they, mon chou?

"'Quite literally falling?' Do I want to know…?"

Ren blinked. "Let's say that I don't recommend scaling a pyramid surrounded by enemies without a grappling hook."

(Akira gave up. He was not going to ask for an elaboration, because his sanity was kind of fraying at its edges, thank you very much.)

"Soo…" Shiho begun, after a minute or two of them listening to silverware rattle in the kitchen. "Ren and I go to school, Akira and Morgana stay here, and we figure out what the two of you will do in the evening?"

"Sounds good to me."

The school day ended up being a bore, dragging along horribly slowly, Ren silently wondering what to do, now that he's never going to set a foot back into his former home -- partially by choice and partially by the knowledge that if he were to try, it might end badly, after yesterday -- and the silent question of what now?

He hadn't gotten an answer by the time they'd made it back to Shiho's, Arsene only able to offer condolences and well-wishes and affection. Akira and Morgana had been holding a very amusing discussion on paper when they'd entered the kitchen -- that is, Morgana had a pen in his mouth, and lines that were supposed to be words were scribbled all over the paper, Akira looking somehow both exasperated with the penmanship and pale at the cause of it.

Somehow, despite everything else, it wasn't as bad as Ren had imagined it, Akira knowing some part of what happened over the last year. Ren still wasn't ready to explain everything, because it was Ren's and didn't concern Akira as it had Shiho (and Mishima to a lesser extent), but maybe someday he would. For now, Akira would have to live with the knowledge that the Metaverse was a thing Ren frequented, and that Morgana could talk and had human-level intelligence.

"...Suzui-san told me that we're allowed to stay for as long as we need," Akira said as soon as Ren's approached them. His voice was small. Ren hummed as he set his bag down, Shiho doing the same in silence.

"Suzui-san's great. She makes awesome American-style cookies, too."

"Yeah, there's a plate in the fridge. An' some dinner she and her husband made. They said to consider it a birthday present." Akira looked both guilty and almost affronted, not that Ren could fault him for it; he wasn't the fondest of other people doing favors for him either, because it felt like he would end up indebted to them by returning them. He knew that Shiho's parents didn't expect anything back and did it out of the goodness of their hearts, but still--

Thou art quite the hypocrite sometimes, Mr. Busybody of Tokyo.

Shush, Arsene. The point still stands.

There is no stand for the point to occupy, the persona quipped, but keep telling that to thyself.

The three of them ate, Ren expertly ignoring Arsene, Shiho keeping up a pleasant flow of conversation, and then they were in the living room again with each a cookie in hand, Ren's pigeon of a persona shooing them out while he (and a grumbling Zorro) cleaned the dishes and table. Akira stared after them, wary and full of disbelief, before he refocused on his cookie. "So," he said, and promptly shut up.

"So," Akira started again, glancing at Ren. "You'll probably go back to Tokyo as soon as possible."

Ren sighed. "Yeah. I had planned on staying the full school year with Shiho --" She nodded, understanding, "-- but I don't want to stay in Inaba for longer than necessary. It's not doing me any good."

"Our parents aren't, you mean…" Akira muttered, before straightening. "When will you leave?"

A frown. "You're taking this much better than I'd anticipated, I have to admit."

"Please -- ever since I've followed you into the TV I knew that you'd leave at the next possibility. I'm not an idiot."

Well.

He wasn't wrong, Ren thought, sourly.

(Shiho glanced between them, noticing that their usual bite was missing from their banter -- the almost sharp-bitter tang that colored their previous discussions -- and she smiled a small smile to herself before butting in, seeing as it was not going anywhere.)

"How about the start of summer vacation? That gives you roughly a month to sort and plan everything, and it would let you finish up with school to a point."

Ren, after a moment's pause, nodded. It was a sound plan, and it made sense to switch back into Shujin at the start of the winter term instead of a few weeks before vacation started, considering he didn't need even more rumors to his name. Ann, Ryuji and Futaba keep reminding him that 'the delinquent exchange student from last year' had become an urban legend, much to his chagrin. He hadn't even done anything to warrant still being called a delinquent! (Kawakami and the mysterious student wo used to sit behind Ren would beg to differ, well aware of the tinkering he would do underneath his desk.)

That was when Arsene and Zorro entered the room with coffee, the personas handing everyone a cup (except Morgana, who got a plate with milk), and then Zorro dematerialized with a huff, leaving Arsene behind to settle down next to Ren with his own hot drink, sipping at it contently. "That is as sound a plan as any."

It really was. He'd planned on going to Tokyo over the summer period anyways, so he'd already asked Sojiro if he could stay at Leblanc again --

Wait.

"And what about you?" Ren asked Akira, suddenly reminded that right, both of us are in the same boat for once.

He frowned. "I dunno. Tokyo is yours, anyways. What good would it do if I get involved in everything?"

Well. He could get himself an apartment or something, and Ren was certain that if he'd asked, the Investigation Team would keep an eye on Akira--

"Take Akira with you," Shiho said, the voice of reason as always. "Over summer. Then he can see if he likes Tokyo or not and decide from there. If nothing else, you can look at the universities there."

Akira hummed, actually considering the offer. "You'd tag along, I guess? To visit your- to visit Takamaki."

She raised a brow in amusement and put a hand on Ren's thigh to forestall his immediate defense of her. "I can't; I'm visiting my grandparents in Osaka for the whole month because grandpa turns eighty and he's throwing a party."

"It is a month; if thou dost not like it, thou can always find something else." Arsene added, Morgana meowing his agreement.

Ren and Akira stared at each other for a beat.

"...fine." Both said, at once, one annoyed and the other uncertain.

The next week went down as follows: a day later, the Investigation Team had gotten wind of what happened courtesy of Shiho and Morgana and their sensible plan of expanding Ren's safety net, and a day after that, Ren and Akira had decided to get the rest of their stuff before their parents decided that throwing it out would be the smart solution.

Hilariously enough, no-one let them go at it alone, and thus their parents opened the door the third day after their children had stormed off to a whole bunch of people glaring at them from the garden, Kanji first and foremost. As if to accentuate it, it was raining softly. They had frowned, displeased, and were about to retort something, when Ren very plainly whipped out the letter Sae had written him and shut them up for good. It was quite the empowering and validating experience. Mostly everyone who thought highly of themselves had heard of Niijima, after all, the woman who had been in hot pursuit of the Phantom Thieves and then turned around to publicly support them, winning the case against Shido.

Between the whole lot of them, they managed to gather together everything in roughly three hours, Yukiko loaning them the inn's loading van despite protests from Ren. Not really wanting to infringe upon the Suzui's hospitality any more than needed, Ren rented out a room at the inn as storage space for the next few weeks from his rather considerable funds.

("How much money are we talking about, anyways?" Akira had scoffed. Ren, amused, had hummed. "The equivalent of roughly thirty-thousand euros in a safe in Switzerland."

At Akira's disbelief, he'd added: "Phantom thieving is a lucrative business.")

Most of what had been in Ren's room, he could go without -- except for all of the mementos from the others that he'd brought from Tokyo, his computer, and some of the books.

Speaking of books; Ren opened one of the duplicates of his Arsène Lupin novels -- to the amusement of one Yosuke, Kanji and Shiho, who'd accompanied him, the others with Akira -- and came face-to-page with a bunch of pressed flowers. He blinked. "Oh, right. I'd completely forgotten about them."

Shiho made an inquiring noise and Ren turned to them, one of the pressed flowers held gently between his fingers. "There'd been a magician at juvie hall who gave these to me before disappearing; apparently he'd been doing it every year for half a decade already without being caught. Some believe him to be KID."

"But imagine," Yosuke grinned, "if it really was from KID! Joker and KID, Tokyo's most prolific Phantom Thieves in the last decade, going against each other--"

"It was probably an officer who started it," Kanji reasoned. "And it became a tradition."

Which were exactly Ren's thoughts, ignoring the small nagging at the back of his mind.

(As it would turn out, Yosuke was 100% correct in his assessment, as Ren would find out five days and one long internet search later: the pressed flowers, translated into European flower language, spelled out something like Thank you for keeping Tokyo safe for me!  Stay strong and be brave in the face of adversity; I refuse to believe that you're anything but innocent.

Arsene had helped immensely with the flow of the translation, and Ren? Ren had to… sit on it, for a good twenty minutes, uncomprehending. And then he'd checked the web for mentions of Kaitou KID returning to Japan and found various apparent sightings of the famous thief, though no official heist had been issued as of yet.

And then Shiho had entered the room, and proceeded to lose her mind for an added twenty or so minutes.

Ren's life was batshit insane.

And also, he somehow had to send a bouquet back as a thank you.)

Still, that would not happen for some time now, and Ren was currently loading the last of his possessions into the van and watching it drive off to the Amagi Inn.

He, Akira, Shiho, Morgana and Yosuke and Chie had stayed behind.

"You could ask Dojima for an investigation, y'know?" Chie said, loudly, a frown marring her face.

Ren shrugged, watching his paren-- watching the Amamiyas watching them from the edge of their property, a scowl on their faces. They heard. They didn't dare move closer, though, Arsene's reflection visible and reflecting in the forming puddles and on any mirroring surface around them. Zorro, too, flickered in and out of them, as angry as Morgana was with bristling fur and exposed claws.

He could, sure. But honestly? Ren was so done with the topic. "If they try to interfere in my life, yeah, or if they're foolish enough to ignore the court order. It's a waste of money and resources otherwise." He turned to Akira, who nodded, subtly, and then back to Chie. "But thank you."

She hummed.

"We have your back, yeah?" Yosuke added, honest and severe all at once.

And that was that.

Next on Ren's list was dropping by the Velvet Room in the morning and talking to Lavenza, who hummed in understanding, somewhat distracted. "Excuse me," she'd said to him when he was about to leave. "I am happy for you, Trickster, I truly am -- there is simply something that has my attention right now."

Ren and Arsene had hummed. "I understand, Lavenza. Until next week."

She had nodded, gracing him with one of her small smiles, and Ren had left the Velvet Room, ready to tackle his next obstacle: the school. He'd talked with his homeroom teacher and she accompanied Ren to the principal's office at the end of the lesson, and the principal had truly seemed sad to see Ren go and not commented on the almost mysterious and sudden transfer.

He'd called Kawakami-sensei as well, still saved in his contacts as Becky, and she'd responded almost immediately.

"Amamiya-kun?"

Ren smirked. "Hello, Kawakami-sensei. Congratulations!"

She sputtered, and Ren left her floundering for a second longer before he'd grown serious. "How difficult would it be to put me back into the school registry for the winter term?"

A pause. "You want to transfer back to Shujin?" She didn't let him answer, a sigh following the question, as well as the shuffling of paper. "After the summer vacation, then? It should be doable, I guess -- I'd have to talk to the new principal…"

Kawakami made a resigned noise. "Of course," she started, slowly, "all of that would probably be no problem if your transfer back was already in the system and we simply forgot to approve it, what with the new staff and all..."

Ren raised a brow, catching on. "You want me to ask Futaba if she can help you?"

Another resigned sigh. "Yes; I figure that it would be the easiest and most efficient approach. I'm guessing that you want to be back in the same class as Takamaki-chan and Sakamoto-kun?"

"Yeah, if it'd be possible. And Kawakami-sensei? Thanks."

"Only you, Amamiya-kun, only you."

He sent a text to Futaba after, asking for her cooperation and secrecy -- Ren wanted to surprise the others with the news -- and Futaba answered him with a thumbs-up emoji.

(Akira quit his job at the gas station. When asked why, he'd shrugged, not wishing to admit that over the last few days, Inaba's former splendor was starting to loose its glory, and that regardless of if he'd stay in Tokyo or not, he didn't feel like returning. If he did, he would probably only fall back into bad habits that he was trying to seriously break, starting with officially apologizing to Kanji for how Akira had acted around him, and how he'd taken care of the biker gang after raising through the ranks.

He'd found himself talking to Hanamura-kun and even Satonaka-san over the days, and had an enlightening talk with little Nanako Dojima, who'd sought him out.

Well, not so little anymore, but she was still a few years younger than him, so there was that.

"I heard from the others," she'd told him apologetically. "And I know how it feels, to be the odd one out."

"What do you mean?"

Nanako had snorted. "Our siblings are persona users -- they'd been through hell and back and only told us because we found out, and it changes things. My situation is somewhat different from yours -- Yu's much older than I am, for one, while you and Ren-kun are the same age -- but I know how hard it is, to sit on the sidelines and not being able to help. To think am I not good enough for a persona? Not strong enough? So if you ever want to talk about it..."

They'd exchanged numbers, Akira a little shell-shocked, and then Mariko called him a few days later, contrite-sounding and also a little bit proud. I'm so glad that you finally got away from your parents, 'Kira, she'd said, they were the worst. And then she'd asked him if he was interested in getting back together, because, as it turned out -- as Akira had known, deep down -- she hadn't broken up with him because of him, but because of his parents and their eagle-eyed stare at everything that Mariko had done, and Akira didn't know they had paid so much attention to his former girlfriend.

The Akira of a month ago would've said yes, and the Akira of two weeks ago probably as well, but now?

Akira had loved Mariko, maybe in the same way that Arsene loves Ren or that Shiho-chan loves Takamaki, but Akira wasn't certain that Mariko loved him like that, because --

in the end, she hadn't loved him enough to put up with his parents, and maybe that was childish of Akira, but Arsene always stuck by Ren's side, and Shiho-chan's girlfriend entered into a contract with a persona for her, and--

"No, Mariko; I don't think it would do us any good."

He could hear her watery laugh over the phone, could picture her smile, and thought about how she'd supported him over the years. "Thank you," he said, a farewell. Mariko echoed him.)

("Thank you, Shiho," Ren said, on his last Saturday in Inaba. He, Morgana and Akira would leave on Monday, and Shiho would stay. But it was okay.

She smiled at him, proud and happy. "Always, Ren -- you don't have to thank me for this."

He quirked a smile as well, his fingers carding through Arsene's wings, a soothing action if Shiho's ever seen one; Ren was surprisingly tactile. "And a thank you to your parents as well. They're good people."

They really were, taking in the twins without prodding the issue too much. Shiho was glad to have them, especially when compared to the likes of Ryuji's father or Ann's parents. Or Ren's, obviously.

"Just you wait, Amamiya-kun. By the same time next year I'll be back in Tokyo, and then you'll see me at every Phantom Thief meeting because I won't be leaving Ann's side! You'll never get rid of me!"

"It will do us good," Arsene intoned, sounding like putty underneath Ren's ministrations, "to have thee participate in the meetings. It will keep the Lovers and Chariot from running off into danger."

"Hear, hear," Ren added. "Phantom Thief Scholar, keeping everyone grounded in reality."

Shiho blinked. "Scholar? Is that supposed to be my codename?"

He shrugged, kind of bashful. "I thought it fit; you're the holder of the Art arcana, which stands for a new life after a big change, and a scholar is someone who is passionate and confident and enthusiastic about their given field of study, which describes the arcana well. If. Well, if you like it, of course."

She smiled. "Yeah, I do."

She would miss them, of course, but she had the Investigation Team and the Thieves' Den to pass the time, and a whole future to explore. Scholar, huh. I like it.)

It was Monday the 24th, and the Inaba train station was unusually crowded; the Investigation Team and Nanako Dojima, Shiho and her parents. Ren, Akira and Morgana. The persona, unseen but felt all the same.

Someone who looked vaguely like Margaret, even, with an unreadable expression at the far back, cast in shadows.

It was the start of summer vacation, and the end of Inaba.

"An' don't forget to call if you run into any trouble!" Yosuke said, something all-too-knowing in his eyes. "And maybe say hi to Yu for us, if you're already in Tokyo; he's looking forward to meet you."

"And tell big bro to visit soon!"

Ren smiled at them and nodded, and promised Shiho that he would text her as soon as they'd arrived in Tokyo. She would be leaving for Osaka in two days.

Their stuff was already shipped, and so the only thing to do was board the train to the good-byes and well-wishes from everyone else, a warm and fuzzy feeling spreading through Ren that wasn't all Arsene, and he glanced over to Akira, who looked nervous but determined.

The train left the station as Ren's reflection stared back at him with golden eyes and a delighted smile.

His phone chimed.

Ren quirked his lips, amused as always that Yusuke constantly managed to use all of his money on art supplies or similar, despite their rather large monthly set-up that they had going thanks to Makoto, Haru and Futaba.

Everything would be fine from now on.

Morgana was sleeping in the seat next to him, Akira listening to music with his eyes closed, shoulders free of any kind of tension.

Arsene hummed in agreement and spread through Ren, thick and cloying and warm and content like a cat. Yes. Everything shall be well.