Chapter Text
After ten minutes pass of the waiting game in Leblanc’s attic, Sumire starts to get a little restless.
She can tell everyone else is, too; Ryuji’s leg bounces with more speed than Sumire’s ever seen it before, Ann scrolls though her phone with furious intensity, and everyone else sits with an expression more befitting of a funeral than an interrogation.
Sumire and Haru, meanwhile, sit stiff and unmoving, waiting for something to happen.
“Should we, like,” Ann starts, “Go look for them or something?”
“I’m starting to get a little worried.” Makoto agrees. She turns to Futaba, “Can you…?”
Futaba taps her fingers against her knees, “I could figure out where they last were,” She reminds them, “But…” She draws herself up slightly, “I-I wanna ask some questions first.”
“They’ve made it clear that they aren’t going to answer anything without our missing teammates present.” Yusuke points out before Sumire gets the chance.
“What were you guys doin’ in Mementos, though?” Ryuji says abruptly, his accusatory tone not quite masked by his affable demeanour, “You don’t need Joker and Crow here to tell us that, do ya?”
“We were trying to find a way to get past the door.” Sumire says truthfully.
“And blow off some steam.” Haru chimes in, “Destroying shadows is excellent stress relief, I’ve found.”
Futaba mutters something under her breath, which goes ignored.
“I’m with Ann and Makoto.” Ryuji quickly changes the subject with all the grace of a sledgehammer, “Is it really like Ren and Akechi to just up and vanish without letting us know?”
“I’m gonna go ask how long they’ve been gone.” Ann says, standing up abruptly and jogging down the stairs.
“They wouldn’t have been able to contact us while we were in Mementos.” Morgana says, turning to Ryuji.
“Yeah, but they know that- wouldn’t they have left a note, or somethin’?” Ryuji fires back, scratching the back of his neck.
“Perhaps they didn’t expect to become unavailable.” Haru adds, and everyone swivels to look at her, “They wouldn’t have felt the need to leave a note if they thought they could be contacted at any time, right?”
“But…” Makoto winces, “That would imply something happened to them.”
There’s a pause, and Ann comes bounding up the stairs, “Um,” She starts, grabbing everyone’s attention, “Boss says that they left about five or ten minutes after we did.”
Makoto’s expression grows more grim, “That’s… quite the amount of time to be missing. We were in Mementos for over three hours.”
Haru grimaces suddenly, “It’s that late?” She mutters, glancing out the window.
“I’m starting to get worried.” Sumire confesses, voice hushed.
Futaba hums quietly in something that might be agreement, glancing down at her phone. She yelps suddenly, and stands up so fast that her chair falls over, “Uh, Ren’s phone went back online!” She shouts, “-Fifteen minutes ago?! Ugh, I need to get faster network times for this thing-” She trails off, mumbling to herself.
“Where is he?” Makoto asks quickly, cutting off Futaba’s hushed monologue.
“O-oh, right,” She stutters, “Umm… Odaiba? Or, well, he was in Odaiba, but he’s almost here now!”
Sumire feels her face drain of colour.
“Um,” She squeaks, “Do you know where, exactly? In Odaiba?”
Futaba makes a face, rapidly typing something on her phone, “Near this construction site thing- wait, what? They’re turning it into a stadium? I thought they were building a lab!”
“Why do you ask?” Yusuke turns to Sumire, eyes narrowed.
“Because there’s a palace at that stadium,” She says weakly, “And it’s a really bad one.”
In the silence that follows Sumire’s declaration, the sound of Leblanc’s bell chimes downstairs, and a single pair of footsteps taps up the stairs.
Ren pauses at the top of the attic stairs, and it’s with a numb sense of déjà vu that Sumire thinks he looks like the world is ending.
***
Ren feels like the world is ending.
He doesn’t remember how he got back to Leblanc. Hell, he doesn’t even remember how he managed to leave Maruki’s palace, but he must have left, because as he blinks he sees the stunned faces of all the Phantom Thieves looking at him expectantly.
Why are they in the attic, the only person he saw today was Kasumi- Sumire. Sumire, he reminds himself, and he did see the other thieves today, he-
It’s October third, Ren repeats in his head, It’s October third- the second October third; he tries to sort each day into its first and second occurrence to unscramble his memories.
But, he doesn’t have time for that.
“Ren,” Makoto says, standing abruptly, “I’m glad you’re here- we were starting to get worried.”
Ren swallows, “Right.”
“Uh- a lot of stuff’s happened.” Morgana starts slowly, and Ren holds back a snort, “First things first, I guess, we found Okumura and Yoshizawa in Mementos, and they both have black masks.”
Ren blinks slowly. Yeah, of course they have black masks; Morgana was there when Haru awakened, and Sumire awakened today-
Focus.
The second Ren rearranges his memories in the correct order, he freezes.
What the f*ck?
Exactly why everything feels so off clicks into place. Ren doesn’t bother holding back his snort, this time.
Everyone gives him a bewildered look, as one snort dissolves into two, and then into breathless, hysterical chuckles.
“I- Ren-senpai.” Sumire stands up, wincing as she knocks her knees on the table, “Please, I need you to listen to me- Haru-senpai and I aren’t murderers-”
“I know,” Ren murmurs around his rasps, “I know.”
“Wait, what?” Ryuji blinks, “But, Ren, didn’t you…?” He trails off, and the thieves exchange confused looks.
Everything is so different, this time. Haru didn’t join them to take down her father- no, Akechi joined; but he didn’t want them to target Okumura? Wasn’t the thieves targeting the man the point? And Sumire-
Ren chokes on his laughter. Oh, god, Sumire.
Slithering from underneath the tangled wreck of his bonds, the Faith cracks, shifts, shatters, until it’s strung up back into place, a blood oath once more. It’s like it never left.
“Ren.” Makoto’s voice cuts into his numb shock, “What’s- why are you laughing?” She sounds almost nervous.
“Well,” Ren chuckles weakly, feeling the line between laughs and sobs blur, “Everything’s kind of gone to sh*t. But, um.” He huffs weakly, “They’re- they’re telling the truth. They’ve never killed anyone.”
He gets why Akechi had burst into laughter over Ren’s suspicions of Sumire, now. The very thought is so entirely ridiculous that Ren wants to kick himself for ever thinking it.
Sumire’s eyes widen at the answer, looking as though gears are turning behind her eyes.
“Ren-kun,” Haru says tentatively, “Where’s Goro-kun? Were the two of you not together?”
Ren smiles grimly, “Yeah, uh, we were.”
Ann laughs uncomfortably, “Hey, Ren? What’s going on? You’re really freaking me out…”
Ren grimaces, and ignores the nausea that starts to roil in his gut.
He locks eyes with Sumire.
“You remember, don’t you?” She whispers, voice cutting through the room like a knife.
Ren turns away, some co*cktail of shame guilt and dread creeping through his insides, and he smiles weakly in affirmation. Sumire looks horrified, and clasps her hands over her mouth, any expression aside from shock entirely unreadable.
“Remember what…?” Futaba asks, voice equally quiet.
“Where’s Goro?” Sumire blurts, thankfully redirecting the conversation before Ren has to formulate a response to Futaba’s question.
“I don’t know.” He says, voice cracking, “I- he’s really not happy with me, right know, so-”
“Goro remembers too?” Sumire gasps, her face brightening.
“Sure does.” Ren says, clenching his fists and glaring holes into the ground.
“What are you both talking about!?” Morgana yowls, flicking his tail indignantly.
“Ren-kun.” Haru pipes up, “When you say Goro-kun ‘isn’t happy with you’, do you mean…?” She tilts her head inquisitively.
“That he wants me dead?” Ren blurts with incredulous laughter, “Definitely! I probably deserve it, too.” He mumbles, the weight of everything finally tumbling onto his shoulders.
God, what the hell has he done?
Somewhere, Metatron burns with a grim satisfaction.
“He what?!” Ryuji yelps, and Ren remembers there are other people in the room.
“I assume that was an exaggeration?” Yusuke says, looking fairly confident. He falters when Ren doesn’t say anything.
“Ren, what on earth are you saying?” Ann gasps, eyes wide, “Akechi- he- you’re joking, right?”
Futaba is frozen stock still, a horrified understanding creeping up her face, looking as pale as she did when Ren first met her.
“D-do you know where he is?” Sumire stutters out.
Ren shakes his head mutely. “No.” He mumbles, “Um, he almost- you know- but then he left the palace.”
If Ren were to be charitable to himself, he’d say that Akechi didn’t slit his throat because he doesn’t really hate Ren, he’s just angry; he’ll get over it-
But Ren has seen firsthand evidence, time and time again, that Akechi doesn’t just get over things.
Makoto’s eyes widen, “A palace? So you were…” She furrows her brows, “Why on earth did you go to the Metaverse?” She demands, though Ren can tell she’s scrambling.
“We didn’t mean to.” Ren protests weakly, “And -don’t worry about it- the whole…” He waves a hand, “Visions thing isn’t going to be a problem anymore.”
Sumire shoves her hand into one of her pockets and shakingly takes out her phone, putting it to her ear. After a beat, she puts it down. “Goro still isn’t answering his phone.” She says quietly.
“Are any of you going to explain anything?” Morgana cuts across, “What do you mean the visions aren’t a problem anymore? What do you mean Akechi wants you dead?”
Ren opens his mouth, and clicks it shut.
Explaining would mean talking about Akechi. It would mean talking about Maruki, Yaldabaoth, Shido, Sae, Okumura, Sumire, and he can’t.
“You all need to leave.” Ren says, clenching his fists tighter and looking up, “I’m not doing this right now.”
Something akin to disappointment passes over Sumire’s face, but after a beat she nods, and stands with a small sigh, Haru blinking in light confusion before following suit.
“B-but they could be the black masks! Or- we still haven’t asked them-” Futaba blurts, and cuts herself off, finally speaking up, pointing at Haru and Sumire as they freeze.
Ren grips the bridge of his nose, “They haven’t done anything. It’s-” He’s not talking about this right now. “Everyone just get out. I need-” Time. But he never gets time. He’s already wasted so much of it but he’s not doing this.
Makoto looks shocked, “Ren, you- Are you seriously just-?”
“Dude…” Ryuji mutters.
“How can you be so sure it isn’t them?” Yusuke asks, and Ren presses his lips together, “It was you who was so suspicious of Yoshizawa-san, initially.”
No need to rub it in, Ren thinks. He responds only with a shrug, and a pointed look.
Sumire startles back to movement after a short beat, and awkwardly shuffles towards the attic stairs. She pauses as she stands next to Ren. With a sharp inhale, and a huff, she whirls around to face Ren with a confident expression, betrayed slightly by her shaking hands.
“You-!” She starts, then takes another deep breath, “I need your phone number. To contact you. And-” She swallows, “You owe me, so-!”
That startles a defeated laugh out of Ren, “Yeah, I-” He cuts himself off, and takes out his phone to exchange numbers with her, “I’m…” He starts again, “I’m really sorry, Sumire.”
Sumire doesn’t seem to know what to do with that, as her eyes go wide, and she presses her lips together. She stutters on a nod, and rushes down the stairs. Haru follows her out, and gives Ren a look as she does.
“H- wait.” Ren calls after her, and Haru pauses, “Do you remember too?”
Haru’s sharp expression softens slightly, “No,” She says, shaking her head, “Sumi-chan was the only one up until now.” She pauses, “But we did… figure out why you did what you did while we were in Mementos today.”
That could mean a lot of things. Ren assumes it’s the worst one.
“Right.” Ren murmurs, “I- thank you.”
Haru nods, and turns back around to leave.
And then Ren is faced with the indignant and bewildered expressions of the rest of the thieves. Ren just stares them down. He made his point clear; he thinks.
Futaba stiffly bolts from the room after a beat, and Ren winces as he thinks she might be crying.
“Futaba-” Ann starts, and groans. She shoots a look at Ren as she runs after her.
Morgana flicks his tail, “Did you want me to leave to?” He asks, voice small.
Ren nods. “Not forever. Just tonight.” He murmurs, remembering how he managed to f*ck up with Morgana in both timelines.
Morgana seems to appreciate the reassurance, as his drooping ears perk up slightly. “I’ll stay with Futaba.” He says as he dashes out of the attic.
“You’re all seriously just leaving?” Makoto says incredulously to the space where Futaba, Ann, and Morgana used to be. She turns to Yusuke and Ryuji for backup.
“I’m afraid I’d like at least some kind of explanation.” Yusuke says, giving Ren a sharp look and folding his arms, “You’ve said some rather alarming things.”
“Yeah dude- you’re… you’re kidding, right? When you say Akechi wants you dead?” Ryuji says, looking hurt and confused.
Ren presses his lips together in a weak grimace, “Let’s just say Crow definitely won’t want to help us anymore.”
Ryuji’s eyes widen, and his expression catches between a couple different emotions, “sh*t.” He mutters, and Ren has to agree with the sentiment.
“What about Okumura’s palace?” Makoto cuts in, looking more and more stressed by the second.
Ren startles, “Oh, we’re not going back in.”
Yusuke frowns, “Why?”
That would require explaining. “None of us will like what happens if we do that.” Ren says. Come to think of it, the topography of Okumura’s palace has been really strange- he’s not thinking about it. Ren rubs a hand across his face, “Just- look. If you’re desperate for answers, ask Sumire or Haru. They’re telling the truth. Or Akechi. He might kill you, though.”
“You’re joking, right?” Makoto asks sharply with a glare.
“Yes.” Ren says. It’s not a lie. He doubts Akechi is even a fraction as furious at the other thieves as he is with Ren. “Please leave.” He repeats.
Ryuji sighs, and hauls himself out of his chair, giving Ren an unreadable look as he passes by him to leave. Yusuke frowns, but leaves without complaint.
Which leaves just Makoto.
“How long until you explain everything?” She demands.
“Just-” Ren scrunches his face, “A bit. Don’t worry, I’m not just-”
Running? Metatron suggests, and Ren ignores him.
Makoto glares at him for a few seconds, before she finally deflates. “Fine.” She mutters, “Fine! But you’d better have an explanation ready.”
Ren snorts, “Sure. Or you could just talk to Sumire.”
“I think I might.” Makoto fires back, hastily gathering her things and striding towards the stairs.
After a moment, the bell above Leblanc’s door chimes, and Ren is alone.
***
There are too many thoughts fighting for precedent within Akechi’s head.
Ren, Ren, why couldn’t he kill him? Akechi almost f*cking had him, and still- Why, why, why, Akechi hates him so much-
-Maruki that absolute piece of sh*t. Akechi doesn’t know what he did, but- (Sumire lied to him) Maruki killed him? Yes. Yes, that’s right- a second time- No, it’s- It’s October. It’s February. It’s-
-Shido. Akechi nearly collapses from the sheer physical wave of rage that wracks his body as the trinity of everything he despises is completed in his head.
He remembers- He turned himself psychotic. (when?) In Maruki’s palace. He won, he won, Ren didn’t stand a f*cking chance- (why couldn’t he kill him?) It doesn’t matter. The psychosis hasn’t worn off, and Akechi’s head buzzes with thought after thought after thought that slices through his brain, one after another in an eclectic cacophony.
Robin Hood and Loki are buried beneath the static.
That’s fine. It hardly matters.
Akechi should have killed Maruki when he had the chance. But, no, no, wait, Maruki is still just a man. He does still have a chance- whatever god complex his shadow is sporting doesn’t translate to bullet proofing in reality.
And it is reality.
It’s-
Akechi tastes blood and chokes on air, a gasp shuddering through his body as he nearly bites clean through his lip.
Right. Right. This is-
This is real. All of this is real- it’s not some bullsh*t puppet show for a madman anymore-
Akechi remembers, abruptly, that he is still alive.
Air floods and escapes his lungs in short bursts, and Akechi claws his mask off of his face, (He can’t remember when he entered the Metaverse- did he ever leave?) And sinks his clawed hands into the flesh and muscle of his arms, shredding through skin and searching for bone-
It hurts, he realises with delight, it hurts,
A short laugh interrupts his heaving breaths. Then another, and another, until he’s left cackling at nothing, gouging chunks out of his arms, red staining through black and blue.
The stench of iron and sea salt assaults his senses, and it’s so familiar that Akechi realises where he’s ended up.
Ha. Haha,
Good, he thinks, eyes finally zeroing in on the churning seas of blood that crash against the cruiser that parts the sea with undeserved arrogance, good. He needs to kill something, someone, and Akechi doesn’t remember how he got here, but he must say that it’s the only piece of good fortune he’s been afforded all day.
Akechi peels his gauntlets out from where they’ve carved valleys into his arms, and staggers to his feet.
“I know you’re there,” Akechi drawls, shouting to the air as he stumbles into the ship’s lobby, “Why don’t you come out and chat?”
Akechi would love to give a piece of his mind to the thing that killed him the first time.
He feels Robin and Loki twitch and thrash beneath the frozen lake of static in his head, and his mouth splits a smile in response.
He doesn’t need to be careful at all- killing the cognition of himself shouldn’t have any negative consequences in the slightest, because Shido already knows. He already knows! All that work, all that suffering, every single piece that Akechi carved out of himself, and it was all for nothing.
It’s downright hysterical.
Akechi covers his mouth with his bloodied gauntlets as more helpless snickers spill from his lips. He collapses his weight against the entrance, ignoring the swarms of cognitions as much as they ignore him.
“What’s so funny?”
Except one.
Akechi doesn’t even turn around before digging the barrel of his gun into the cognition’s chest. He turns his head a second after, and is met with a politely raised eyebrow.
“Do you greet all your acquaintances this way?” The cognition asks mildly.
“Just you.” Akechi lies, smiling manically with all his teeth. He drops the expression, and pushes forward, gun still pressed between the thing’s ribs, “Now-” He cuts himself off, as the weight of everything he wants to scream gets caught on his tongue.
Shido already knows, he realises again, and this time the psychosis isn’t enough to shield him from how much that guts him. Shido knows exactly who, what, Akechi is and still he-
He-
He doesn’t-
Mortifyingly, Akechi doesn’t manage to stop a sob as it wracks his shoulders. His aim would have faltered if it wasn’t braced against the cognition.
The cognition’s eyes crinkle into perfect, happy, little crescents, entirely uncanny, as it chuckles breathily, “Oh,” It says, “I think I know what this is about.”
With a shriek, Akechi cracks the end of his gun against the cognition’s jaw, grabbing it by the collar and slamming it against the wall. Around them, airy chatter continues as though nothing as changed.
“Shut up!” Akechi screams, face pressed nose to nose- except he f*cking hates looking at this thing, because all he can see is pipes, steam, red, the watertight bulkhead door has- and he desperately wants to look away, but he can’t-
The cognition only looks amused. Of course, of course! This thing doesn’t remember what it did, Akechi knows, and yet it still looks so f*cking smug.
How did Sumire ever stand this? Akechi wonders. By lying, he thinks, perhaps uncharitably. He can’t bring himself to care.
“You know, if you keep this up,” The cognition drawls airily, “Then the captain might catch wind of your exploits.” It says, like it’s reading from a script, like it’s fishing for an answer it already knows.
“The captain,” Akechi growls, pushing the cognition even further against the wall, “Is well aware of everything I plan on doing to him.”
The cognition’s eyes shine, “Oh!” It gasps, and Akechi makes sure to dig his gauntlets painfully into it shoulder, ignoring the ache in his own arms, “You’ve finally caught on!”
The cognition’s face goes abruptly blank. It tilts its head, appraising, and Akechi suddenly can’t quite remember where he is.
“I suppose that means you’ve outlived your usefulness, then.” The cognition says, voice entirely flat, and Akechi’s breath stutters (Did you really think you’d be spared after-)
His body is too stiff to counter when the cognition moves, faster and with far more strength than it’s displayed in this timeline, repaying the favour for the earlier gun to the face, and Akechi staggers back with a shout, blinking stars out of his eyes.
“Time’s up.” The cognition says, idly flicking the safety on and off its own gun, why didn’t Akechi see the gun- “It’s been entertaining.”
Akechi lunges forward, grasping at his sword with two hands, aiming to skewer the cognition right through the stomach. He manages to clips its side as it just barely manages to dodge out of the way, body twisting at an angle to-
A bang, (The watertight bulkhead-) and a burst of pain blooms in the meat of Akechi’s right shoulder. He just barely manages to clamp his scream on his teeth rather than his tongue, and he drops his sword, reaching for his gun with shaking hands.
Another bang, and Akechi feels his teeth crack with the force he grits them with. He can’t move, he-
Sumire will be upset if he dies, he thinks, unbidden. Haru will be upset if he dies, which is such a strange thought to have, wrapped up in the swirling miasma of conflicting memories, that Akechi snaps out of his stupor.
He manages to wrap his left hand around the gun at his hip, letting his right arm hang limp, and he fires before he gets the chance to think.
The cognition gasps, rage burning across its face as its knees buckle with a bullet lodged in its thigh. Akechi pushes his advantage, rushing forward to bash it into the ground.
He jams the barrel of his gun against the underside of the cognition’s chin, and the cognition bares its teeth, warped with the awkward angle.
It laughs weakly, a bruise already blooming across its cheek, the fight leaving its body as Akechi grinds metal further against its jaw, his hands gipping at its hair to lock its head into place.
It grins. "You wanted him to love you, right?" The cognition asks, conversationally.
Akechi freezes.
"That's why you were waiting to tell him who you were," It continues, rasping around the shape of a gun against its windpipe. "You thought that maybe, maybe, if he knew who you were, he'd regret it. He'd finally love you." The cognition laughs, "Is that why you’ve put it off so long? Were you afraid it wouldn't change anything? That he wouldn't care?"
"Shut up," Akechi whispers.
The cognition sighs, "It's a shame," It says dispassionately, "All that struggle. And now you know- the captain doesn't care. He knew this whole time and he doesn't give a single sh*t." It grins, "What are you going to do, now that you know? Did you come here to die?" It asks, looking delighted.
“Clearly not.” Akechi grits out, tugging harder on the cognition’s hair.
It winces, and then covers it up with a condescending tsk, “Is that so? Then why are you hesitating?”
Akechi pulls the trigger, and the cognition evaporates into black smoke.
Another brick cracks within the Tower’s foundations, and it grows to rank five.
Akechi nearly breaks his fist on the ground as he screams at nothing.
***
Sumire is equal parts relieved and frustrated that Ren told everyone to get out yesterday.
Frustrated, because every uncharitable thought she’s ever had about Ren this past year is swimming just under her tongue, itching to break past. Why does he get to run from this, this is his fault-
But, at the same time, Sumire knows exactly what it’s like to suddenly be the subject of time travel, and she needed some time as well.
And now she knows exactly what Ren nearly ended the world for, too. Well, she doesn’t know for sure – she didn’t ask when she had the chance – But given that it’s the only thing that makes sense, and that apparently Goro’s first instinct upon regaining his memories was to try and murder Ren, She’s almost certain in her assumption’s accuracy.
(She still doesn’t know where Goro is. He hasn’t been responding to texts, or calls, or anything, and Sumire is-)
It was easier to feel angry, when she felt Ren’s actions had no purpose behind them – When it was simply a callous and careless cruelty that held no further meaning.
It was easier, and yet, even still, she’s-
Furious. Sympathetic. Dreading what’s to come.
A hot mess, too.
So, she’ll be patient.
Sumire taps her fingers against the edge of her desk, finding herself completely unable to concentrate in class.
Okay. Maybe she won't be patient. But she’ll wait, anyway.
As the bell rings for break, Sumire comes to the realisation that the thieves are not willing to extend the same courtesy.
On her way to the roof, hoping to distract herself with helping Haru garden, Ann and Ryuji corner her in the stairwell.
“Sumire-chan, wait up!” Ann calls after her with forced cheer.
Sumire sighs, and stops walking.
“We gotta ask some questions” Ryuji says as the two of them catch up.
“Did you ask Ren-senpai…?” Sumire asks, in a poor attempt to deflect before this conversation gets out of hand.
Ann grimaces, “I- well, no- but-”
“He looks like someone told him his grandma died.” Ryuji finishes bluntly, “And I’m not lookin’ to make my bro cry, so."
Sumire laughs weakly. “Well…”
Ryuji’s eyes widen, “sh*t, did his grandma actually die?”
Sumire blinks, “What?”
Ann sighs loudly, and elbows Ryuji in the ribs, “Before that, I think we need to apologise.”
Sumire freezes. “Oh.” She gapes dumbly, not having expected this at all. “Oh, you don’t have to-” She cuts herself off. They, what? don’t have to apologise for accusing her of murder? Well, she’d never demand an apology, but she probably shouldn’t stop them, either.
Ann shakes her head furiously, “No, we’re sorry. Um,” She grimaces, “We’re still a little confused about…”
“Everything.” Ryuji offers.
“Everything,” Ann agrees, “But Ren seemed pretty sure that you’re not,” A supernatural assassin, are the words that cannot be said in a school stairwell, “And we all attacked you without sitting down and thinking first, so.” She inhales sharply, and bows at a ninety-degree angle, Her blonde pigtails bobbing with the motion, “We’re really sorry!”
“Yeah,” Ryuji tacks on, giving an awkward little bow of his own, “Uh, I definitely didn’t help anything back then. I kinda jumped the gun.”
Sumire stares blankly at the two bowing thieves, before giving a tentative smile, “It’s okay,” She says honestly, “It was… a bit stressful. But it all turned out okay in the end!”
For now, at least.
Ann straightens back up, and smiles genuinely, “Okay! Good!”
“And, uh, Okumura nearly took my head off, so we’re even?” Ryuji says stiltedly.
Sumire laughs at that, “I guess so.”
Ann presses her lips together, “We’ll go find her later. And, um, repeat this apology, I guess.” She startles, “Oh! But first,”
Sumire sighs, and realises she isn’t out of the woods yet.
“So what’s going on?” Ann finishes, a co*cktail of curiosity and worry mixed across her face.
“You won’t believe me if I tell you.” Sumire says bluntly. A half-lie – she has no idea what Ann and Ryuji are willing to believe, she just doesn’t want to explain this alone, “So… I guess when Ren-senpai and Goro call a meeting, we can all explain.”
Ryuji makes a face, “Dude. That could take years.”
He’s not wrong.
Sumire sighs, “Well, I don’t even know where Goro is right now, so…”
Ann’s eyes widen, “You don’t know where he is?”
Sumire shakes her head weakly, “Nope.” She says, a hopeless laugh spilling from her lips, “I’ve tried contacting him, but…”
Ann and Ryuji exchange a look. Sumire bites at her lip, and waits for someone else to talk.
“Um.” Ryuji starts, looking suddenly sheepish, “Ren was joking when he said Akechi was tryin’ to kill him, right?”
Sumire is pretty sure she remembers Ren saying explicitly that he wasn’t joking. Sumire also knows that it took her arguably too long to figure out exactly what it is Goro does, so she can’t really judge Ann and Ryuji for not immediately connecting the dots.
“Yes.” Sumire lies, stiltedly, because this isn’t a conversation for right now, nor is it one that should take place in a school stairwell, “He was joking.” She shuffles uncomfortably, “Um, can I go?”
Ann and Ryuji don’t look particularly convinced, but they both sigh in a way that at least shows they’re willing to back off.
Sumire gives a grateful nod of her head, and freezes when another voice wafts up the stairs.
“Sumire-chan?” Makoto calls, cresting into view, “Would it be possible to talk in the student council room?”
Ann and Ryuji both grimace, and shoot Sumire sympathetic and apologetic looks, before mumbling their goodbyes and rushing past Makoto.
Sumire presses her lips together, and allows herself to feel a little impressed at her own ability to hold it together so far, “…Do I have to?” She asks, and winces at how childish that sounds.
“I must insist.” Makoto says firmly.
Great.
Sumire resigns herself to her fate, and doesn’t deign to respond as she gestures for Makoto to lead the way.
Taking a seat in the student council room, Sumire knits her fingers together, and stares at the table.
“Ren is refusing to give anything resembling an explanation,” Makoto starts, tone more clipped now that they’re in private, “So I’m hoping you could shed some light on this situation.”
Sumire hadn’t been expecting an apology from any of the thieves, but now that Ann and Ryuji have given one, she feels a little put out that Makoto doesn’t want to do the same.
“I really… can’t.” Sumire says quietly.
Makoto’s face twitches, “What do you mean you can’t?” She says, slow and patient, like she’s dealing with a misbehaving child.
Sumire shifts uncomfortably, “I mean you won’t believe me. I- I’m waiting for Ren-senpai and Goro.”
“Try me.” Makoto snaps, “You can’t just… say I won’t believe you, when-”
“I’m not telling you right now.” Sumire interrupts, summoning the dregs of her confidence, “There’s- a lot of stuff that I don’t think is my place to say.”
Makoto stands up so quickly that her chair nearly falls over, and slams her hands on the table, “That’s not good enough!” She shouts, “I’m not an idiot- Even if you and Haru-san aren’t murderers you clearly know who is, and,” She takes a sharp breath, “I’m not an idiot.” She repeats, “No one knows where Akechi-kun is, and what Ren said all but confirms that he’s-” She cuts herself off, face twisting.
“…Makoto-senpai?” Sumire asks tentatively.
Makoto collapses back into her chair, and buries her face in her palms, shoulders shaking slightly. “I think I’m an idiot.” She confesses, voice wet, “Akechi was lying this whole time, and I didn’t even notice,” She looks up, and shoots Sumire something that could be a glare if it weren’t so defeated, “You were lying this whole time, and I just-”
“I- I wasn’t trying to lie!” Sumire says hurriedly, “It was mostly just… lying by omission?”
“That’s still lying.” Makoto snaps without much heat, burying her face further into her hands, “And I- What am I even doing?”
Silence follows the question, as Sumire doesn’t know what to say.
“I don’t know what I’m doing either.” Sumire admits, softly, trying to connect, “And, um, everything’s going to turn out okay, I think.”
Not true. Sumire doesn’t know in the slightest if everything is going to be fine. There are so many moving parts to all of this, a puzzle that can only be arranged with all three participants, and one of them isn’t in a state to do anything resembling a logic puzzle and the other is missing, and Sumire is caught in the middle with no way to move forward.
Makoto must understand some of that, at least, because she doesn’t seem comforted.
“People have died.” Makoto mutters under her breath, “People are going to keep dying, and you’re all acting like we have all the time in the world, like we can reason with someone who-”
Sumire thinks there might be a misconception in place, about what the real problem is. But she can’t correct it without explaining everything that has come before, so-
She sits, and waits.
***
Ren is having a bad day.
An understatement, really. But, what he’s feeling ultimately boils down to that.
He thought a good night’s rest would help. It has not.
Morgana took one look at him in the morning and decided to room in Ann’s desk instead, which Ren supposes is fair. He ignores how it kind of stings.
He’s spent the majority of the day ignoring everything that’s been buzzing in his head, trying to focus on class despite the revelation that he suddenly remembers all the material.
He remembers, in a split second of dread, to avoid the nurse’s office as well.
But, beyond that, he doesn’t think about Maruki (Ren doesn’t want to see him ever again- what if they run into each other, what if Maruki chases him down, what if-), He doesn’t think about Akechi (Goro? He gave Ren permission to use that name, before, but Ren doesn’t know what etiquette they’re working with, and if he thinks about it for more than one second he’ll come to the conclusion that the courtesy is most certainly revoked no matter what.), Doesn’t think about Sumire (She was here, remembering, this whole time, and it’s all Ren’s fault. All that admiration and all he ever gave her in return was a knife in the back), and, all in all, just doesn’t think.
But he does. Think, that is. Ren’s certain he used to be better at lying to himself.
And that’s the problem, isn’t it?
Ren feels as though there was a seal placed over some part of his brain, that kept all his apathy, selfishness, and despair neatly tucked away in the recesses of his mind; easy to ignore, easy to hide, easy to plaster with pretty words like ‘thoughtful’ and ‘patient’ and ‘a good listener’ – so easy to hide, in fact, that Ren didn’t even realise he was lying when he said these things.
But, he thinks Maruki’s ultimatum took a knife to that thin sheet of foil and made sure to leave it in ribbons.
So now,
Now,
Ren doesn’t know.
He’ll have to talk eventually.
When the final bell for the end of school rings, Ren has every intention of-
Not running, just-
His excuses don’t matter, because whatever he intended to do is interrupted when Sumire walks up to him outside the school gates.
“Um…” She starts, voice hushed, “I- I don’t know where Goro is, right now,” What? A cold stone of dread sinks in Ren’s stomach, “But I think we’re going to have to explain everything without him.”
Ren’s throat feels dry. “What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” He asks, voice as neutral as he can muster.
Sumire gives him an exasperated look, “I’m sure he’ll be okay.” She doesn’t sound like she believes it, “He might need… space. If not from me, definitely from you.”
That’s fair. It still hurts.
“But I don’t think we can wait.” Sumire continues, “Everything- Everyone is falling apart, at the moment. Um...” Her eyes flick downwards as she trails off, voice losing confidence.
Ren sighs slowly, and takes a long inhale to match, “…Today?” He asks.
“Today.” Sumire confirms.
Ren presses his lips together, and reaches for his phone. “I’ll tell everyone to meet at Leblanc. You tell Haru.”
Ren knows this won’t end well.
