Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

10/26 WEDNESDAY

“Okay,” Makoto breathed out. Similar to the rest of the group, she didn’t like Akechi, but their interactions were at least in some vein of politeness. Even if it was remarkably fake from one side. 

Makoto retrieved her notebook and moved Ren’s chair to face Akechi. She sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and flipped to the page with all her approved topics neatly listed. 

“We have a few minutes before they call us. Let’s go over the order. The most requested questions are regarding your investigation, which I’m sure you can’t discuss, so the next most are regarding your personal lif–”

“So admirable the way you handle Amamiya-kun,” Akechi interrupted with a wildly different topic. “I’ve noticed he listens to you without question. How did you manage that?”

Handle him? 

The phrasing grated instantly. Ren wasn’t someone to be handled. He wasn’t some unruly child in need of correction, nor was he the sort of person who simply followed because someone told him to. He chose to listen, to help, to stand by people– and that was what made him so commendably steadfast. Reducing that to obedience was insulting.

“I– What?” Makoto blinked. 

“He won’t give me the time of day, yet you say jump and he asks how high,” Akechi mused.

Makoto stared at him, unsure if she’d heard correctly or if the exhaustion was truly getting to her. 

“This is not what we’re meant to be using this time to discuss,” Makoto reprimanded firmly, attempting to politely put an end to this.

But Akechi only smiled faintly, as if she’d proven his point. “Ah, I see. Touched a sensitive subject, then. It’s just curious, really. The way he looks at you, how quickly he moves when you ask something of him. I can’t imagine he does that for anyone else.”

“You’re reading into it too much.” What little patience she had for this boy was beginning to wane.

“Am I?” He leaned forward slightly, adjusting his jacket as he did so. “It’s not criticism, it’s admiration. You have a remarkable effect on him. He defends you without hesitation. That’s rare.”

Her pulse climbed despite her best effort to keep her expression neutral. “We’re close friends, Akechi-kun. There’s nothing more to analyze.”

He’s trying to get under my skin.

“Of course. Close friends,” he hummed in mock understanding, eyes glinting. 

“If we’re finished speculating over nothing, I’d like to review the talking points.”

Akechi didn’t reply, that same knowing smile still playing on his lips.

“Alright, as I was saying–” 

“You’re in a relationship with Amamiya,” he stated bluntly.

What?

Her mind blanked for a half-second, every practiced line and cue dissolving into static. “I-I’m sorry?” she managed, failing to force the bewilderment out of her tone. Of all the things she expected today, this was not one.

Akechi stared intently. He reclined in his chair, legs crossed, hands folded neatly over one knee like he had all the time in the world. “You and Amamiya. You’re seeing each other. Romantically, to be clear. Your denial is pointless.”

Her throat tightened. “That’s… that’s an odd statement to make,” she said carefully. “And entirely inappropriate. My personal life is not up for discussion here.”

“Really?” Akechi tilted his head, watching her reaction like a scientist dissecting an insect. “He said he loves you.”

Makoto’s breath hitched, but she shook her head. “Ren cares deeply for all of his friends. I’m sure whatever you think you heard was–”

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Akechi snapped, the pleasant veneer in his voice finally cracking. “I’m not blind, Niijima. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like you’re his salvation. Pathetic, really. I didn’t take him for the type to need someone to hold his leash. And you, so desperate to be relied on that you mistake dependence for affection. That’s what you call love?”

Her blood boiled with every new word. She could feel her composure fraying, the sharp edge of her anger bleeding into her voice. “With all due respect, Akechi-kun, this is not your business.”

Her headache had been a dull throb since morning, but now it pressed behind her eyes, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

However, Akechi’s contemptuous smile didn’t falter. “Perhaps not. But some people might find it interesting, don’t you think?”

She glared at him. “Say what you mean.”

His eyes glinted with amusement, absolutely delighted to see he was getting to her. “You can’t read between the lines?”

“I prefer when people have the courage to speak plainly.”

That earned her a quiet laugh, genuine only in its condescension. “Very well. I only meant that Sae-san might take an interest in your relationship. If not her, then the people she reports to.”

Telling Sis didn’t matter, but if her director knew? That would be the excuse they needed to withhold another promotion. Would she be taken off the Phantom Thief investigation? Was that good? 

No. She’d never forgive me. We wouldn’t be any safer from being discovered with someone else leading the SIU’s investigation anyway. At least with Sis, maybe we can convince her to hear us out if the need arises. 

“I don’t think ‘looks’ and claiming to love his friends is any proof of a deeper relationship,” Makoto said, her voice low now. This conversation didn’t need to be overheard.

“Would mattress shopping together be adequate proof?” Akechi questioned, reaching into his coat and handing her a folded slip of paper. “Perhaps next time, don’t wear something quite as bright. Though it’s clearly his, perhaps we can count that as more proof?”

Makoto slowly unfolded it, seeing exactly what she expected. A zoomed-in photo of her wearing Ren’s cherry Monta hoodie, laughing at whatever he’d said as they entered the second mattress store. Sojiro and Futaba weren’t in frame, but she knew they were just ahead of them.

While her hair was mostly hidden, she knew her red eyes undeniably identified her. If this were shown to anyone who knew Sis, they’d see the resemblance instantly.

“Th-That isn’t–” she winced, knowing that claiming it wasn’t her would do nothing. “I was just–”

“You were just helping a friend?” Akechi finished with a mocking little laugh. “Shouldn’t an officer’s daughter know better than to lie to a detective? Your father must not have tau–”

“Don’t talk about my father,” Makoto snapped, voice dipping dangerously. All of this was too far, but that was a line she wouldn’t allow him to cross.

“Hmph, struck a nerve, I see,” he hummed, seeing the warning for what it was. But he wasn’t done. “I expect the two of you won’t stay together after this.”

Makoto stared in disbelief, stunned by the arrogance of it. “Why on earth would you think that?”

“Sae-san’s naïve little sister dating a criminal?” His voice turned light, almost playful if he weren’t threatening her. “That would raise quite a few brows at the office. That same naïve sister out shopping for a bed with said criminal– oh, what conclusions people might come to. Not a good look for Sae-san, unable to control her own sister. And after all her hard work… how unfortunate that her foolish little sister would throw it away over some boy.”

Makoto’s head pounded again, but not from the budding migraine she’d had all morning. No, it was more like the day she’d awakened to Johanna. Akechi was saying things that were far too similar to what Kaneshiro had said. Just like that night, she wouldn’t listen to it any longer.

“First of all,” she said, her voice shaking with effort to stay calm. “My sister already knows we’re dating.”

The blatant admission caught him off guard, his eyes widened before he schooled his expression into neutrality, almost eagerly awaiting her to continue.

“And second, Ren Amamiya is not some boy– and he’s most certainly not a criminal.”

“But isn’t that what everyone sees when they look at him?” Akechi sneered. “A record, a reputation, a stain that never quite washes off. You can dress him up, let him smile, pretend he’s something different, but the world won’t change its mind just because you believe in him.” 

He leaned forward more, elbows resting lightly on his knees, his tone deceptively casual. “You speak of him like you see something the rest of us don’t. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? You do. You’ve convinced yourself he’s worth saving, and he believes you. Must be nice, having someone believe in you that way.” His eyes darted away as he scowled. “Not everyone gets that luxury.”

For the briefest second, Makoto saw loneliness buried beneath the venom. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just mockery. It was resentment.

“Ren never deserved what happened to him,” she said quietly. “Even still, he’s worked to overcome the position he found himself in.”

For a heartbeat, silence lingered between them. Makoto wasn’t sure what compelled her next thought, only that she saw something fragile in Akechi’s expression, a flicker of isolation so profound it almost hurt to witness. For all his arrogance, there was something deeply… hurt about him.

“I think,” she began carefully, extending an olive branch of kindness. “You want to believe that too. That people can change–”

“Don’t,” Akechi snapped, the word slicing clean through her sentence. The scowl that followed was colder than anything she’d seen from him yet. “Don’t you dare pity me, Niijima.”

Makoto blinked, taken aback by the renewed venom.

“You think your self-righteous little speeches make you better than the rest of us?” he continued, the polite mask long gone now. “You’re not. You’re just as naïve as everyone says you are. I can’t believe someone like Sae-san, a woman with actual ambition, ended up saddled with a weak, sentimental little sister who can’t even keep her head straight over some boy with a criminal record.”

“Ake–”

“And him,” Akechi spat the word out. “You act like he’s the only one who’s ever been misunderstood, when really, he’s just another failure society was smart enough to throw away.”

Makoto forced in a steady breath, but her knuckles were white around her notebook. She’d tried, really tried, to keep this civil. To extend her patience despite his provocations. She hadn’t wanted this to turn into a confrontation, but Akechi had made that impossible. Every word out of his mouth dripped with contempt, aimed not just at her but at Ren too.

They would be called on stage any minute, but Makoto’s voice rose before she could stop it. “You talk about him like he’s disposable, but I would never throw him away. None of us would. Our friends love him for who he is, not what the world decided he should be. They see the same person I do, someone kind, and brave, and impossibly good, even after everything he’s been through.”

Shifting forward, Akechi’s eyes flicked down. A hand adjusting his coat once more. Makoto hardly noticed, just thankful he wasn’t ceaselessly interrupting her.

Her anger burned into something clearer. “No matter what you or anyone else believes–” She stopped herself, taking a moment to breathe. This wasn’t something she would say with anger, but with conviction. “I will always love Ren Amamiya.”

Akechi blinked, startled by the intensity in her voice. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something small and brittle cracking under her words.

It didn’t last long. A smug smile stretched across his face as he leaned back again, one hand adjusting the lapel where his mic sat, drawing her attention. With an overemphasized pluck, he unclipped it, and brought it to his mouth before he spoke. “How touching.”

Makoto’s stomach dropped. The blood drained from her face as Akechi’s voice echoed from beyond the curtain, amplified through the sound system. 

No, no, no! It wasn’t on while I–? How could I not notice?! 

A barely audible click followed, his finger switching off or muting the mic– she didn’t know, didn’t care. The damage was done and Makoto couldn’t believe she’d been angry enough to let herself fall for such an obvious trap.

“I think your school might just be more interested in hearing their student council president interviewed over the detective prince,” Akechi said. “Perhaps I won’t have to tell Sae-san anything. There are plenty of people who heard you confess everything.”

Her pulse roared in her ears. Every rational thought scattered.

Everyone heard me. Everyone. My classmates. The teachers. Parents. Anyone and everyone who’s come to see him! Oh no… no no no!

Realization dawned her. There were people far worse than her peers and educators in the crowd.

Undercover detectives– who likely work directly with my sister!

Her mind raced through the possibilities– how much of it they’d caught, how well the mic had picked up her voice, what rumors were already flying. She could almost feel the hundreds of eyes waiting for her to step on stage.

Her breathing quickened, and she pressed her trembling hands together in her lap, forcing herself together. To think. 

You can’t fall apart now. Not in front of him.

From somewhere beyond the curtain, a muffled voice wavered over the speakers. “Ah, uh… I-It looks like we’re ready to begin! Please welcome our guest and host– Detective Prince Goro Akechi and Student Council President Makoto Niijima!”

Makoto flinched at the sound of Miss Kawakami’s hesitant tone, the way her voice strained to sound casual. 

Her mouth felt dry as she rose, smoothing her skirt out of reflex, but it felt like she’d been dumped in ice water. Akechi stood beside her, straightening his jacket like nothing had happened, that same satisfied curve at the corner of his mouth.

“Shall we?” he asked lightly, gesturing for her to go first as he pulled back the curtains allowing the stage lights to blind her.

—

“Oh, fuck,” Ryuji’s jaw dropped, turning to stare at Ren.

His phone was blowing up, and he knew if he could physically pry his eyes off Makoto walking out on stage, he’d find Futaba typing like mad in the crowd. 

His girlfriend looked understandably mortified, face red, eyes wide, body stiff, and the most uncomfortable smile plastered on. The majority of the audience began whispering about her over clapping for the detective prince. 

“How much shit are you guys about to be in with her sister?” Ann asked, biting her lip as Makoto took her spot behind the podium.

Best case? She’s in a better state of mind, and Takemi keeps her from killing us. Worst case? Her Palace fucking reforms with a vengeance, and she disowns Makoto or sends her to another fucking school. Or just puts me in a cell. I guess two birds, one stone. Leader of the Phantom Thieves and her sister’s criminal boyfriend dealt with.

“Focus,” Ren whispered. Using his Third Eye, he scanned the audience below, spotting five faintly glowing men scattered throughout the gym. “Fuck.”

“Hm, this is less than ideal…” Yusuke commented. “Makoto appears to be struggling more than anticipated.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Ann sarcastically rolled her eyes.

“Indeed…”

Ren’s grip on the rail tightened as he returned his attention to his flustered girlfriend at the podium. He hardly heard what was being said, his mind swimming with questions.

Just what the fuck did Akechi do to piss her off enough to say that? As her boyfriend, do I have to beat the shit out of him? No, she probably wants to do that herself. Should I call Takemi and let her know we need damage control help? I don’t know if she’d even take our side. It’s not like Makoto did it on purpose, though… that smug bastard provoked her.

Still, what she had said was nice at least. Ren was almost jealous that he didn’t get to declare his love for her so publicly. After ages of pretending, some part of him was relieved it was out in the open. He wouldn’t have chosen it to go like that, of course. 

“Dude, this ain’t good,” Ryuji nudged him.

Ren gave his head a shake and finally listened to the interview.

“Oh, I-I’m sure that’s highly classified–” Makoto stammered.

“Not at all,” Akechi laughed. “It’s only my opinion, after all.”

The crowd cheered, urging him to spill whatever it was they were discussing.

“Surely a hunch isn’t worth disrupting someone’s life in the event you’re wrong,” Makoto attempted to diffuse the situation.

“Are you worried I think it’s someone you know, Niijima-san?” Akechi taunted.

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!” The audience chanted.

“I believe the student body has spoken,” the detective grinned. “Very well, in my Phantom Thief investigations, I’ve narrowed down my suspects to–” 

His phone began ringing.

He chuckled. “What timing. My apologies, I can’t silence my phone. The nature of my work, unfortunately. You don’t mind if I take this, do you?”

Makoto stared at him. She knew that was way too convenient to be anything other than intentional. “We’ll be back in fifteen minutes, everyone.”

The crowd whined. 

They watched Akechi pause near Makoto, whispering something. When he walked away, she looked up at the balcony and Ren knew she needed them to follow.

“Let’s go,” Ren said. He felt his phone buzz the moment Makoto was off stage.

The overwhelming urge to just jump over the rail and follow after her struck him, but given the sea of people he’d land on, it probably wasn’t a good idea. 

Ann used her phone for light again and relayed the message Makoto had sent as they made their way to the exit. “They’re in the PE office.” 

“Fuck that room, ain’t nothin’ good happenin’ in there,” Ryuji cursed for the second time today.

Ann continued, “The others are on their way too. Haru’s making sure Futaba and Mona get through the crowd okay.”

Morgana could probably be used as a battering ram to get them through faster.

“Okay, c’mon, we can’t leave Makoto alone with him for long.” Ren broke into a sprint the moment they were out of the gym.

His best bro was right behind him. “She’s probly beatin’ the shit outta him for blastin’ your guys’ secret to the whole-ass school anyway.”

“I believe most would consider that an earned punishment. However, given what was discussed on stage, matters appear dire regarding our anonymity,” Yusuke assessed. 

“We’ve known he knows who we are for a while now,” Ann cautioned as they rushed up the stairs. “But remember, he doesn’t know we know that.”

As they slowed down, the gym stage door opened and their three missing companions emerged. 

“Oh, geez,” Futaba exhaled. “That was awful. And this is gonna be so much worse, isn’t it?”

“H-How did you guys–?!” Ryuji asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ren cut him off. He could already guess that Haru used the dead dad card to get backstage. Makoto was alone with Akechi and he wasn’t wasting a second more. “Let’s go.”

Leading their reunited group, he shoved the door open. He didn’t bother acknowledging Akechi’s self-satisfied presence; all focus was immediately on his clearly distressed girlfriend. 

“Ren…” Makoto winced. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” he shook his head, reaching out to take her in his arms. “It’s not your fault.”

“Ehem,” Akechi cleared his throat.

“Quiet,” Haru commanded. “Give them a moment.”

“For real,” Ryuji agreed. “Asshole.”

Makoto didn’t accept his embrace, rather choosing to place her hands in his. She bit her lip, looking up at him, the million and one worries running through her mind on display. “W-We’ll talk later.”

“Okay…” Ren turned to the cause of her pain. “The fuck do you want?”

“Perhaps some politeness to start?” Akechi suggested. 

Fuck politeness.

Ren approached him, and Akechi squared up, trying to make himself look bigger. It didn’t matter because all Ren did was snatch that stupid fucking mic of his. Taking a step back, he stared Akechi dead in the eyes and dropped the damn thing to the ground before stomping his foot on it hard. It made the most satisfying crunch. 

That was about as polite as he would get.

“Alright then… I suppose I’ll speak plainly,” Akechi said, specifically looking at Makoto. He reached into his jacket, procured a thin folder, and threw it on the desk next to him. “I know you’re the Phantom Thieves, and there’s the proof.”

Why the fuck is he saying shit like that while looking at Makoto? 

“The eff even were you for these?” Ryuji asked, handing a photo to Ren for inspection. “Shit looks ‘shopped.”

“I have video evidence as well,” Akechi replied dismissively.

“Drat,” Yusuke muttered. 

“That can be edited too…” Futaba murmured.

So that’s what it looks like to others…

The photo was of Yusuke, Haru, and Ann as they faded into the Metaverse. It was clearly them, even with the dogshit lighting in the alley behind Okumura Foods HQ, their features were distinguishable. 

Wait, Ryuji’s right. Where the fuck was he for these? We checked up and down that alley so many times.

Ren closed his eyes, trying to recall any nooks or crannies where this rat could’ve been hiding. He was drawing a blank. 

“Where did you take these from?” Haru asked, looking just as confused. “There aren’t many places to hide in that alley.”

Awkwardly coughing, Akechi refused to meet anyone’s gaze. “A detective doesn’t give up his secrets.”

Ren remembered walking away from their dive spot once to argue with Makoto over getting it done in one run. They had stopped by a dumpster. That was the only possible hiding spot unless he was up on a roof, but from the angle of the photos, that didn’t seem likely.

“Were you in the dumpster?” Ren accused. 

Futaba told me he’s got my number saved as ‘attic trash’; meanwhile, he’s the one hiding out in literal trash.

“Pfft, dude should be called the garbage prince,” Ryuji snickered. 

“That’s so gross,” Ann’s nose wrinkled. “That alley stunk.”

“Garboro Trashkechi…” Yusuke muttered his wordplay, testing it out.

“Good one.”

“There is room for improvement.”

The garbage prince’s eye twitched. “I will not hesitate to turn you all in to the authorities.”

“Garboro’s so mad, bro.”

“Take this seriously, Ryuji,” Makoto warned, her glare shifted from the blonde to Trashkechi. “What do you want?”

Akechi went on to feed them the most see-through bullshit lie Ren had ever heard. Something about getting pulled into Okumura’s with them, and stumbling into the ‘true culprit.’ Akechi happened to have his awakening just in time to save his own life because he just couldn’t die there, he had to determine the truth.

Ren wondered what his real awakening looked like. His mind conjured an image of Akechi dumped in black slime instead of blue flames.

His Persona is probably Batrick Pateman. 

There was a lot wrong with his story, but they all nodded along, pretending to buy it. Morgana spoke, and Akechi played up understanding him for the first time, even though based on his little story about awakening a month ago, he should’ve heard the cat when he spoke yesterday.

Eventually, Akechi finally fucking told them what he wanted: their help investigating the true culprit behind the psychotic breakdowns, and then the Phantom Thieves' immediate disbandment. 

Ren almost asked for a minute to think it over, just to let his team laugh.

Unfortunately, they all had to keep up the ruse and let Akechi continue. He shared information they already knew. Sae Niijima was in charge of the investigation and the higher-ups were pressuring her to get this dealt with. To Makoto’s visible disappointment, Akechi believed Sae would make up a confession if needed.

“I’ll give you some time to discuss my proposition,” Akechi said slowly. “Though agreeing is your only true option. The alternative is I submit my evidence to the police, and you’ll all be arrested. I’m sure you don’t want that.”

“No,” Ren replied through grit teeth. “We don’t.”

“Then you agree to my terms,” Akechi smiled. “I look forward to our brief partnership. I’ll be in contact soon regarding how we will proceed.” 

Ah, he’s gonna talk to his boss about what the plan is. 

Ren glanced over at Futaba, who was still using Yusuke as a human bean-pole shield. She must’ve been thinking the same thing, her smirk gave it away.

We’ve got him now.

When no one spoke, Akechi continued, “Well, I believe our business has concluded for now. It was definitely worth coming today.” His smug gaze slid onto Makoto. “... for various reasons. Now that this is handled, I need to be going. I’m sure you can think of some excuse, yes?”

“I’ll think of something,” Makoto sighed. 

Yeah, she’s not going back on stage. This asshole just wants her to suffer more.

Everyone watched him in tense silence, clearly waiting for him to get the hint and go. He didn’t.

Ann’s patience snapped first. “Leave already!”

“For real,” Ryuji added, arms crossed, glaring.

Akechi blinked slowly at the aggressive dismissal. “Actually,” he said, tone turning oddly pleasant, “I’d like to speak with Amamiya-kun. Alone.”

Ryuji immediately stepped forward, planting himself squarely in front of Ren. “Hell no. Anything you wanna say to him, you can say to all of us.”

Akechi smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. Nothing new there, it never did. “Well, he is the leader. I was hoping to speak to just the leader directly.”

Before anyone could respond, Haru politely cut in. “Mona-chan and Mako-chan are leaders too, you know.”

“That’s right!” Morgana puffed out his chest from his spot on the table. “Triple co-leads!”

I don’t know about that, but sure.

Akechi was stuck between disbelief and irritation. He looked like he was deciding whether insulting a talking cat or the student council president was worth the inevitable backlash.

He chose wisely and moved on.

“Very well,” he said finally. “I’ll text you later, Amamiya-kun.”

Ren didn’t miss a beat, feigning mild confusion as he decided to blatantly lie. “Can’t. My phone’s broken.”

Akechi stared at him for a moment, clearly trying to determine if he was serious. Ren’s face didn’t give him anything.

“Of course it is,” Akechi muttered. 

“I dunno why you think we’d ever leave ya alone with anyone after the bullshit you just pulled on Makoto anyway,” Ryuji interjected again, stomping his foot. 

“For real. Why even do that to begin with? If you wanted to work together that’s a really shitty way to start off the ‘partnership’,” Ann said with air quotes.

“A little extra incentive to join forces temporarily,” he answered like it was obvious. “Proof there are eyes and ears everywhere, but if you behave and play along nicely with my offer, I’ll get them off your back.”

“Gee, thanks. Great way of going about it.” Ren was sure he would’ve had more than just that to say if they had been alone.

“You’re welcome,” Akechi all but spat, then turned on his heel, his smile gone as he made for the door.

The moment it closed behind him, Ryuji exhaled loudly. “Man, what is his problem?”

“Besides existing?” Ann muttered.

“Guys, what if he’s outside listening, right now?” Futaba pondered, eyeing the door.

With a huff, Haru stomped over, muttering, “He’d better not be…”

Thankfully, he wasn’t.

Makoto rubbed her temples, the faintest grimace tightening her expression. No doubt none of this was helping her headache.

We’ll go home after this. Put on a movie, cuddle in our big bed, order whatever she wants. It’ll be alright.

Yusuke folded his arms, gaze thoughtful. “What is our plan moving forward, then? Surely we can’t allow him to continue manipulating the narrative like this.”

Morgana hopped up onto the table. “The evidence he has… It’s not ideal, but it sounds like Futaba’s going to be getting some info soon. We’ll wait for her signal and go from there.”

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna be getting a ton tonight.” Futaba nodded.

“How come you didn’t know ‘bout those pics he’s got?” Ryuji asked.

“They were probably in the folder he’s got titled ‘Attic Trash,’ and I really didn’t wanna see what kind of pics he has in there.”

Does she think he has pictures of me or of things he wants to send me?

Ann did not fear the answer as much as he did. “What, do you think he was stalking Ren? Or planning to send him dick pics?”

“Wow,” Makoto interrupted. “Let’s not discuss that.” 

“Lil of both,” Futaba answered anyway. “Maybe some of Ren and Makoto with himself pasted over her.”

Ren couldn’t decide which of the three options was worse.

Haru, quiet until now, frowned, her tone uncharacteristically sharp as she got them off this dogshit speculation. “The way he spoke about the true culprit… like it wasn’t him. It’s sick how easily he lies about this.”

“Yeah,” Ren nodded. “But we have to play along, just for now.”

Ryuji clenched his fists. “I still hate that he got to walk away like that. Acting all high and mighty after what he did to Makoto just now? That guy shouldn’t get away with it.”

Ren’s voice was calm when he answered, but there was a cold edge beneath it. “He won’t.”

Everyone looked up at him.

“He thinks he’s got the upper hand. That’s what’s gonna screw him over in the end.”

Ryuji stretched, cracking his neck. “Alright, guess it’s all on Futaba then.”

“Yeah, my job is really tough. You guys should get me the new Feathermen set as compensation for carrying.”

Ann wasn’t buying her bullshit. “Isn’t your job literally just listening to Akechi?”

“Yeah,” Futaba said without missing a beat. “Like I said, really hard.”

She’s got a point. I wouldn’t be able to do it.

“I’ll get you one,” Ren decided. “What color?”

“Yes! Pink! I wanna get it signed at the next con! There’s supposed to be one in Sendai next summer!” Futaba’s excitement lifted everyone's mood.

“Team road trip?” Ann asked, already grinning at the idea of planning summer fun.

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Haru clasped her hands, smiling softly at the thought.

“Ya think they’d have Phantom Thief merch at a con?” Ryuji added, half-joking.

“Not if we’re disbanded,” Makoto reminded, the mood sinking a little. She shifted, apologetic. “Sorry. Just… being realistic.”

“That’s alright,” Ren said quickly. “Because we’re not going to let it happen. We can go back to hanging out like before, but keep an eye out just in case. I don’t trust anything he says.”

“Mementos schlorps are back on!” Ryuji whooped.

“Ew,” Morgana muttered, jumping down from the desk to approach Haru.

“I believe you are prohibited from that word,” Yusuke tsked.

“C’mon, man, let me have this…”

Yusuke glanced down at Futaba, who nodded. “It shall be allowed this once.”

“Um, no!” Ann objected, hands on her hips. 

“Schlorp me up, babe!” Ryuji grinned.

“Mm, never mind,” Futaba decided. “Schlorp privileges revoked.”

“Eff…”

Morgana sighed, pawing at Haru’s leg. “Are we done for the day?”

“I am tired,” Haru admitted as she opened her bag for him. “Very tired.”

Yusuke brought a hand to his chin. “I do need to continue preparing for Kosei’s culture festival. I am grateful to you all for accepting my invitation to support my presentation.”

Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck. “Wait, what? You want us there?”

Seeing Makoto was in no shape for this specific brand of bullshit, Ren took charge. “Okay, what time does it start again?” 

Yusuke’s answer was serene. “Six in the morning.”

“Eff no, bro. Couldn’t pay me,” Ryuji said immediately.

Ann brightened. “Didn’t he say he got us excused from class for it?”

Ryuji went feral with joy. “Hell yeah. No school!”

Haru clapped softly. “Kosei seems to be full of talent. I can’t wait!”

“I can,” Morgana muttered from her bag.

“Alright. We’ll be there,” Ren promised. “For now, if anyone wants to head home, go ahead.” 

Everyone said their goodbyes, some shooting Makoto apologetic looks on their way. The last out the door was Futaba, right behind Yusuke. 

Ren stopped her. “Makoto and I have to talk for a sec. You wanna wait?”

“Nah, Inari’s coming with me,” she said, already grinning. “I’m helping him with his thingy.”

If I’m remembering right, and I’m pretty sure I am, he wanted to paint me naked for his culture festival thing. Did he fucking ask Futaba–?! 

Calm. 

I’ll kill him tomorrow if he did.

Ren had something a bit more important to worry about at the moment. He could only imagine what was going through Makoto’s head right now, and both of them missing school tomorrow probably didn’t look good. At the same time, not hearing the rumors while they were fresh would be nice. 

Then there was dealing with her sister… 

Akechi’s probably already run off to snitch. We can try Takemi? She’s a leviathan-whisperer.

“I’d better go let everyone know the panel won’t continue.” Makoto stared at the floor a beat longer, fingers worrying at the edge of her skirt. 

You don’t have to do this alone.

“I can text Kawakami to handle it?” he offered, already reaching for his phone. “Tell her to let people know and calm things down.”

“I-I think that’s a good idea,” Makoto breathed out. 

With permission granted, Ren whipped out his phone.

Ren: Hey the detective prince had to run. Can you let the crowd down?
Kawakami: Anything I should know about?
Ren: He had work shit
Kawakami: I assume you’re with Niijima-san? Is she alright?
Ren: We’re probably gonna head out…
Kawakami: Ok. I’ll take care of things for you.

“She said she’ll take care of it,” Ren relayed. “Okay, let’s go home and forget about this for a little bit.”

“No, I have to call my sister,” Makoto said, almost to herself. “I have to tell her before someone else does– before he tells her. I know we have so much more to worry about now, but I–”

Ren watched her for a moment, slipping his phone away. 

She’s shaking. 

He stepped forward, gently resting a hand on her arm. “Hey. Stop for a second. Breathe.”

That didn’t work. Makoto gripped his arms, trembling as if she would collapse. Gorgeous ruby eyes begged for help that he didn’t know how to provide. 

“Makoto,” he said quietly. “She’s going to find out either way. I agree, it should come from you, but when you’re ready to talk about it, not when you’re still panicking.”

“I can’t just– Ren, everyone heard me.” Her voice cracked around the word everyone. “The whole school– That was humiliating!” 

Ren knew it wasn’t intentional, but he almost felt like she was embarrassed over admitting her feelings for him. Who knew what rumors would come of her confession, but he hoped they wouldn’t be too cruel to either of them. What she had said was… nice. He liked it. Even fuckass Shujin would have a hard time twisting it. At least, he hoped.

“It wasn’t. What you said was–” he paused, licking his lips, searching for the right words. “I know he tricked you into it, and I know it was shitty having to pretend nothing happened and interview the cocky asshole, but… I hope you’re not embarrassed about saying you love me.”

Her eyes widened instantly, head shaking before he even finished. “No! Ren, no, I’m not embarrassed in that way–” she stepped closer, hands clutching his arms again, firmly now. “I adore you. The situation with my sister aside, I wouldn’t care who knows it. I just…” she broke off, voice catching. “I just wish it hadn’t happened like that and in front of everyone as a cruel trick. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was ashamed of you.”

Ren was a bit taken aback by how fiercely she said it. His own brief insecurity seemed to have calmed her down. The need to reassure him trumped freaking out over the consequences.

Makoto’s words came faster, desperate to make him understand. “Please believe me– You mean too much to me to ever pretend otherwise.”

“Hey, I know,” he said softly and Makoto searched his eyes until she saw he truly did believe her. The tension and mild panic faded away as she nodded.

Ren sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it about me there.”

“No, it’s okay,” Makoto insisted, the hand on his arm falling to intertwine itself with his free one. “I’m glad you said something. I hadn’t realized how it sounded…” She trailed off, her gaze falling to their joined hands. 

He gave a slight squeeze. “What’d he say that got you to that point anyway?”

“A lot,” Makoto admitted quietly. “But for as angry as he was making me, finally admitting the truth about us, about how I feel about you, steadied me. Depending on each other isn’t the weakness he thinks it is.” Each word was so sincere that his heart physically hurt. “I meant what I said to him. Regardless of what others say or believe about us, I will always love you. Whatever happens with my sister, we’ll get through it. Together.”

Ren’s breath caught. Before he could say anything, she rose to her toes, cupping his cheek.

Her lips brushed his in a soft kiss. The kind that said more than words ever could. For a moment, the world narrowed to the warmth of her touch and the sweetness of her cherry chapstick.

He stupidly wondered where the raspberry one had gone, but decided he liked the cherry more. A few more taste tests would be necessary to cement it as his new favorite, though.

When she pulled back, her fingers lingered at his jaw, her cheeks dusted pink, but her eyes were completely clear of the panic from earlier.

“I’m ready to go home now,” she said, a genuine smile tugging at her lips.

Ren smiled back, his heart still racing. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

Given that anyone disappointed by the detective prince’s sudden departure would likely be leaving right now too, Ren figured they should steer clear of the main entrance. Luckily, the practice building was deserted; no one had made it back to their stalls yet. That would change soon, though.

When the back door was in sight, Makoto stopped suddenly. “My bag.”

Ren turned. “What?”

She winced, like she dreaded what she was about to say. “I left it backstage.”

“We can sneak in through the back door.”

“It’s locked from the outside.”

“Well, you’ve got the keys, right?” he pressed.

“They’re… in my bag…” The admission sounded almost like defeat.

“Which is backstage?” 

“Yes.” 

“Awesome. Okay, wait here–”

“Maybe you could pick the lock?” Makoto suggested, hopefully.

“I don’t have my lockpick on me… I could try making one, but I need a few things.” He already had plans forming in his head. It wouldn’t be too hard to find what he needed, but it might take some time.

Makoto sighed, “No, it’ll be faster to just go in and grab it.”

“I’ll go,” Ren volunteered, wanting to spare her from where most of the student body was. “I can meet you at the station.”

“No, no.” She shook her head, firm this time. “I can get my own bag. I’m going to have to face everyone sooner or later.”

He searched her face and found the stubborn resolve beneath the resignation. Ren let out a breath and pushed his worry down. “Okay. I’ll go with you though.”

—

The gym was still decently full, more than Ren expected. But any non-Shujin guests seemed to have left; only a sea of familiar uniforms remained. 

They stood off to the side, hopefully not too noticeable.

Makoto’s eyes were locked on the stage where the student sharing event was winding down. As soon as it was over, everyone would move the chairs out of the way for the dance, and that’s when they’d sneak backstage and grab Makoto’s bag.

Ren leaned against the wall. It occurred to him that they didn’t really need to stand here. “You wanna wait outside until the dance starts?”

She shook her head, though the tight grip on her sleeve gave her anxiety away. “It’s fine. No one’s noticed us. Maybe we’re making this into a bigger deal than it is.”

Ren wasn’t so sure, but before he could answer, the MC scanned the crowd and brightened like he’d found gold. “Niijima-senpai! You’re here!”

Makoto’s eyes widened and he could tell she was cursing herself for jinxing it.

“Oh, perfect timing! That is our lovely student council president over there! Why don’t you come up and share something? I’m sure the audience would love to hear more from our student council president!”

Makoto actually whimpered. It wasn’t loud, but Ren heard it clear as day. She winced, muttering something under her breath that sounded like a plea for help.

Under better circumstances, Ren might’ve made a joke, but there was no way this would go well. They both knew exactly what the MC and everyone in the gym wanted from her. 

“You could ignore him?” Ren suggested. “We can leave.”

“I’m not that cold,” Makoto said, one eye closed like both options pained her.

Ren still thought the lesser evil was retreat.

“Everybody’s waiting for you, Miss President!”

But he could see how it might’ve been a little too late for that now. 

“Well, I’ll never forget you,” Ren told her with all the love of a wife seeing her husband off before he departed for war, never to return home.

“That’s not really the proper use of that phrase…” she replied weakly.

“Come on now, don’t be shy!” the MC pressed, grinning as he gestured toward the stage.

Makoto let out a quiet, strangled sound halfway between frustration and despair, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. It was the same posture she used before going into battle, except now the battlefield was a gym full of gossip-hungry classmates.

Ren wandered over to the chairs, taking a seat as he watched with more worry than probably necessary for something this stupid. 

“Here she is!” the MC announced proudly into the mic. “Everyone’s favorite student council president, Makoto Niijima-san!”

The crowd erupted in applause as Makoto managed a small wave, her polite smile looking more like a grimace.

“How long have you been dating the delinquent!?” someone shouted.

“Did he really cheat on you!?” 

“Did you suck his dick?!”

“Hey now,” the MC chastised, “Let’s keep this family friendly! And I’m the host here, we won’t be taking audience questions. Alright, Niijima-san, what do you have to share with us?” he said, wiggling his brows. “I know you’ve already shared so much, but I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we’re all dying for the intimate details!”

Makoto’s eyes went wide. “I-Intimate?!” she repeated, her voice jumping an octave as a ripple of laughter spread through the audience. “Th-There’s nothing intimate to share!”

“It certainly sounded like you had a lot to say with the detective prince,” the MC continued, enjoying the reaction he’d gotten. “There have been rumors about you and the delinquent transfer student being an item for months now– so is this a recent development? Or perhaps you’re trying to win him back after a split due to another honor student that recently caught his eye?”

“I– What? No,” Makoto shook her head fiercely, offense flashing across her face. “We never broke up.”

“Oho!” The MC grinned wider, turning to the crowd as if he’d just uncovered a scandal. “So, how long has this been going on, then? I’m sure everyone’s curious. If I remember right, those rumors started as early as April!”

The crowd laughed again, whispers flitting through the gym.

Makoto tried to maintain composure, but her voice trembled with restrained anger. “I don’t think any of this is an appropriate topic for–”

“Oh, come on, lighten up!” the MC interrupted, riding the wave of amusement. “What’s he really like, Niijima-san? Did you have to whip him into shape? Or is he still as dangerous as everyone says?”

Makoto’s shoulders stiffened. She was getting pushed a little too much, and that Niijima anger was about to boil over if this guy didn’t back off. “He’s not–”

But he cut her off again, voice rising gleefully. “Or maybe you’re only dating him to improve your image! You know, seem a little less like a robot!”

That last one landed harder than anything else, and Ren could see it in her eyes. Makoto’s mouth opened, then closed again. For the first time, she looked genuinely hurt. She improved a lot this year, there was no need to hit her with the robot comment.

I have to do something.

The chair screeched against the floor as he stood. The sound turned heads even before he started walking. By the time he reached the stage steps, the MC’s smile had widened.

“Oh, the drama! The student council president’s bodyguard has arrived!” the MC crowed. 

But Ren didn’t care about him or anyone out in the audience. His eyes never left her. Anything else was meaningless noise. The only thing that mattered was Makoto, standing there under the spotlight, trying so hard to hold herself together after a terrible day that had gone on long enough.

He stopped beside her, close enough that she startled slightly when she looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, her voice trembling, eyes flicking between him and the mic like she wanted to pull him off stage herself.

What am I doing?

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to help her. 

There was no point in lying or pretending anymore. After months, he was so tired of the pretending. Of biting his tongue while rumors twisted something good into something ugly. Of acting like the most important person in his life was just another classmate.

He reached out, taking the mic from the stand in front of Makoto with a calmness that didn’t match the storm rumbling in his chest. The room fell silent at once, everyone eager to hear what he had to say. Not that he cared, they might as well have been in an empty room. Ren’s gaze never left Makoto.

God, he loved her. Every steady breath, every nervous glance, every stubborn, impossible part of her that made him want to be better.

And before he could think about what this meant for tomorrow, or what her sister might say, or how the school would explode with gossip, he lifted the mic.

“I’ve always loved you.”

The words were simple, clear, and entirely certain. In all his life, how he felt about her had to be the one thing he’d never doubt.

He exhaled, the rest following without hesitation. “I love you more than I can say. You put up with my stubbornness, my bad jokes, this mess of a life. You’ll never know how grateful I am that you’re in it. That you care.”

“I do know,” she said, eyes soft, shining in a way that made the world fall quiet around them. “And I feel the same.”

Ren smiled, that small, helpless smile that was hers alone. He leaned down, and she rose slightly onto her toes to meet him halfway.

As their lips met the gym went utterly still. For one perfect second, no one breathed.

Then there was the click of dozens of photos being taken at once.

“Get it, girl! Claim your man!” Eiko’s voice rang out from somewhere in the back.

A burst of laughter followed, and then the sharp click of a professional camera flashed.

Every head turned toward the Newspaper Club girl, grinning behind her camera as she checked the screen. “Front page!” she called proudly. 

That’s where that extra budget I approved went, huh?

Ren pressed his forehead to Makoto’s, laughing under his breath as the crowd erupted around them. Good or bad, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care. If the student body misconstrued their relationship now, it wasn’t their fault.

Makoto covered her face, mortified, though he could see how hard she was trying not to smile.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ren whispered as he put the mic back on the stand. 

She nodded, and the pair slipped backstage.

“Round of applause for our President and her boyfriend!” the MC shouted.

—

“I thought you wanted to go home,” Makoto laughed as Ren pushed open the door to the roof. The afternoon air met them immediately, brushing against her face and cooling the heat still lingering from everything that had just happened.

“I did– I do, but…” Ren sighed, letting go of her hand as he stepped forward. For a moment she thought he might’ve been upset. Then he turned to her, that familiar, easy smile tugging at his mouth. “It’s kind of nice up here. Quiet after all that.”

Makoto had followed after him unquestioningly. He’d wanted to go home, save them any chances at further public humiliation, but what just happened wasn’t humiliation. 

Her heart was still racing, but not from panic or anger anymore. Maybe it should’ve been. Her sister would be furious when this inevitably got back to her director thanks to Akechi. 

Ren leaned back on a desk, hands in his pockets as he glanced in the direction of the gym. “I hope you were okay with me doing that.”

Makoto approached, leaning on the desk next to his, her arms folded for warmth. The air up here was brisk, the kind that nipped at her fingertips but cleared her head a little. “Um, I actually think I should thank you for what you did– getting on stage like that. I was about to lose my composure with the way he was pressing, and then he made that robot comment…”

“You’re not like that anymore,” he said quietly. “Maybe I just know you better than they do, but I never thought you were all that robotic. Yeah, you like to do things by the book, ‘instructions exist for a reason,’ but you also care so fucking much about everyone. Even while Akechi was choking yesterday, you were genuinely worried. That isn’t robotic to me.”

“I thought he was going to die,” she emphasized. 

“Oh, no,” Ren said the exact same way Haru had yesterday, though he quickly cringed. “I should’ve told you the plan. He probably only did what he did to you because we pissed him off so much.”

Maybe she had thought that for a moment. But Akechi mentioned seeing the venue ahead of time and ensuring his mic was compatible before Ryuji had done… what he did. 

Makoto frowned, shaking her head. “No, I think he intended to do so from the start. You shouldn’t feel guilty about your plan; it was good, even if it did rely on a multitude of variables.”

“Well, don’t all the best plans?”

“I’d prefer more reliable ones,” she giggled. “Despite your plan-making skills, you have always been reliable in a pinch.”

The words slipped out easily, but they triggered a memory, one that made her smile to herself. “You know, my sister once told me that if I ever get married, my husband should be someone dependable like that.”

As soon as it left her mouth, her brain caught up, and her eyes went wide. “Oh– wait, that’s not– Forget I said that!”

Ren’s grin spread instantly, his eyes lighting up with pure mischief. “Husband?” he repeated, leaning toward her like he’d just been handed the greatest gift in the world. “Can you say that again?”

Makoto’s face flushed deep red. “Don’t start–”

“Husband,” he said again, savoring it. “Wow, you really do plan ahead. So does this mean your sister approves of me? Because I’m such a good, reliable young man.”

“It felt like she was starting to,” Makoto admitted softly. Her smile faded as quickly as his joke had. “But now… what am I going to tell her, Ren?”

His grin disappeared, replaced by quiet understanding. She regretted bringing them back to that topic, but it would sit heavy in her chest until she faced it.

“I think you should tell her the truth,” Ren said. “Akechi tricked you. You didn’t do it to mess with her job.”

Makoto nodded, but it felt hollow. 

Will that even be enough? 

The Sae from a few months ago wouldn’t have cared about context; it was still Makoto’s fault for letting herself be tricked. But Sae had changed lately. She’d softened. Hadn’t she?

Maybe not for much longer.

Ren hesitated, his tone careful. “Do you think… she’d make you switch schools?”

“I don’t know,” Makoto murmured. “It’s probably too much work now that we’re halfway through the semester. And she’s been so focused on the Phantom Thieves case lately…”

Her voice trailed off. The wind carried a faint chill, and she rubbed her arms absently. “I just hope she comes home tonight so we can talk. She hasn’t been lately. She’s not even answering my texts.”

A quiet moment passed before she pulled out her phone, the screen lighting her face in pale blue. She typed a short message.

Makoto: Are you coming home tonight? I’d like to talk if you can.

She stared at it for a second, then hit send. The small whoosh sounded much louder than it should have.

Silence lingered between them until Ren moved closer, gently draping his blazer over her shoulders.

Makoto looked up, startled, then smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

He just nodded.

She scooched closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Let’s focus on something else for now. There’s nothing I can do about it at the moment.”

“Yeah,” Ren agreed easily. “So, did you at least have fun the past two days?”

Makoto thought for a second, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yes. Despite making a fool of myself, the rest of the culture festival was certainly memorable.”

“Good memorable or bad memorable?”

She laughed quietly. “Good. Mostly thanks to you– and our friends. I don’t think I’ll forget it anytime soon.”

“You could’ve made it more memorable if you’d adopted that kitten yesterday,” Ren joked. 

“I can’t imagine what Sis’ response would’ve been to coming home and finding a kitten.”

“Maybe it would soften her up,” he shrugged.

“Maybe,” Makoto echoed, but she wasn’t so sure about that. Especially when Sis was rarely home. The theoretical kitten wouldn’t get a chance to bond with her at all. 

I’m rarely home as well. Getting a pet right now isn’t the most responsible choice.

Ren suddenly leaned his head on hers, nuzzling in like he was trying to get comfortable. The noises he was making sounded a lot like purring.

I guess my boyfriend is sort of a giant kitten anyway. Ren might get jealous if I adopt a cat. Or he’d never leave my apartment just to spend time with it.

Before she could get too lost in fantasies of her boyfriend laying on the floor playing with a kitten the way he had with multiple cats yesterday, she was reminded that she’d need to go home tonight despite Ren’s invitation to Leblanc.

“I know you wanted to go to Leblanc, but if Sis comes home, I need to be there.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “We can go to your place then.”

That wasn’t what she intended. 

“Given what I have to tell Sis, she might not be too happy seeing you there,” Makoto warned, not quite telling him no, just ensuring he understood.

He wrapped his arms around her as though silently vowing they wouldn’t be alone tonight. “I’ll hide in your closet. It’ll be like old times.”

Same levels of stress for me I suppose.

Feeling a sudden chill, Makoto slipped her arms into his blazer properly. “Alright,” she agreed.

“Are you still okay with us picking something up? Or do you want me to make something at home?” he asked.

“Um, the kitchen’s a bit of a mess right now,” she admitted somewhat reluctantly. After a late night making the perfect donuts, she had been too exhausted to clean up properly. 

“That’s not like you,” he said, lifting his head, clearly beginning to worry. “Something happen last night?”

Now was as good as ever to give him the treat. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small container, offering it to him. “Yes, but nothing bad. Here.”

“You made these for me?” Ren blinked down at the box of four donuts. 

“Well, technically for us,” she corrected, settling beside him again. “But yes.”

“They look amazing,” he said, lifting one, careful not to get the sticky glaze on his fingers. “I didn’t know you knew how to make donuts.”

“My dad really liked them, so I learned how,” Makoto explained fondly. 

“A cop liking donuts, huh?” Ren almost snorted.

“I know it’s cliché,” she rolled her eyes. “And Sis always told him as much.”

Sae’s comments had been the other reason Makoto learned. Her sister’s constant warnings about too much sugar and ‘empty calories’ made Makoto worry about their father’s health. Eager to help, she decided she’d make sweets that were better for him. Homemade meant healthy in her mind.

It turned out there was no such thing as a healthy donut, as Sae had pointed out dryly when they went out for ingredients. But Makoto had tried anyway. Her first attempts were disasters: half-burnt rings of uneven dough, sugar glaze that hardened into rock, chocolate that refused to melt evenly. The kitchen often looked like a battlefield by the time she was done.

But her father never once complained. He’d take a bite of each lopsided, undercooked, or over-fried donut, hum thoughtfully, then smile like it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. He always made sure to tell her he could taste the improvement with every new batch. 

Little by little, she got better. The glaze became smooth, the dough fluffy, the kitchen less of a disaster. It became a quiet routine even.

As she grew older, there was less time for that sort of thing. Exams, cram school, late nights studying… and eventually, there was no one left to bake for. After her father’s death, the kitchen had gone silent for a long time. She couldn’t bring herself to make them again, not when every part of the process reminded her of him.

Until now.

Sitting beside Ren, handing him the container of donuts and watching his expression light up, it didn’t feel so empty anymore. The sweetness didn’t taste like loss this time; it tasted like something she’d finally gotten back.

Ren bit into one, eyes widening just slightly. “Wow, these are incredible,” he said around a mouthful. “These would go perfectly with coffee.”

“Of course you’d say that,” she giggled, picking up one for herself. “You think everything goes with coffee.”

“Because it does,” he laughed. “If you’re not set on being a lawyer, I bet Sojiro would love to have you as donut baker. Picture it, Leblanc…” He raised his free hand with exaggerated flair, tracing the air dramatically. “Coffee, Curry, and Donuts.”

Makoto finally took a bite, using the moment to pretend to consider it. “Maybe on weekends I could help out.”

“I’ll take it!” Ren’s smirk turned dopey as though already imagining working side by side together. 

The mental image made her smile too, even if three people in Leblanc’s tiny kitchen might get a bit cramped.

It really would go well with his coffee.

They sat together for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything. Mainly about the donuts, though. How Futaba would definitely demand her own batch, how Ryuji and more likely Ann would eat them all before anyone else got a turn, how Sojiro would claim they were too sweet and then sneak a second one when no one was looking. 

The sound of laughter and music from the gym drifted up through the cooling air, mixing with the faint hum of the city beyond the school. The sun was slipping lower now, painting the sky in streaks of soft orange and violet. As they got closer to November, it would be getting darker much earlier.

Makoto glanced at the horizon, then back to Ren. “Should we head out now?”

“Sure,” he said, setting the empty container aside and standing up. “But first…” He turned to her, bowing slightly, and held out his hand with all the grace of a practiced showman. “Might I have this dance?”

Normally, she would have questioned it – Here? Now? – but after everything that had happened today, the idea didn’t feel strange at all. It felt right. She wanted this moment, quiet and simple, before the world rushed in again.

So she accepted the offer and took his hand.

They settled naturally into the familiar stance; her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, his finding its way to the small of her back. Ren stood a little straighter than usual, his slouched ease replaced with something almost formal. It made him taller, more composed, and she liked that.

There was no music besides what echoed out from the gym, but it didn’t matter. They moved slowly, their own rhythm guiding them, one that existed only between the two of them. 

“It’s been a while since we danced together,” Makoto said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Ren nodded, his thumb brushing a small circle against her back. “Yeah. I think the last time was in summer.”

Her mind flickered briefly to another dance, the one in her sister’s Palace. She pushed the thought away gently. That wasn’t this.

“This reminds me more of that night in my apartment,” she said instead.

“Our last night.”

“I don’t know if that’s accurate when I stayed with you all summer.”

He smiled. “Well, I didn’t know you were going to do that. At the time, it felt like the last for a while.”

“Mm,” she hummed, resting her head on his chest as they swayed. “I think I’ve told you before, but that was the night I knew I’d fallen in love with you.”

“Is that why you had that dizzy spell?” he teased, voice light. “So overwhelmed with love for me?”

Makoto smiled faintly. Despite his teasing, that wasn’t entirely wrong. “Maybe,” she admitted. “It was overwhelming. I’d never felt like that before.”

Ren tilted his head slightly, studying her. The teasing left his face, replaced by something softer.

“It wasn’t just love,” Makoto went on, her voice steady but low, like she didn’t want the wind to carry it away. “It was everything that came with it. You made me realize how much I wanted to protect someone, not out of duty, but because I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to make sure you’re safe. I want to help carry the weight you always put on yourself. I know there’s more trouble coming, I can feel it, and that scares me… but I also know we’ll get through it.”

She lifted her head, meeting his eyes. “Because you’ll never face it alone. I won’t let you. I love you, Ren.”

Her words hung there for a heartbeat, caught between them. The fading sunlight reflected in her eyes, but it was his she couldn’t look away from. Those beautiful gray eyes that saw her so completely, it made her breath catch.

Ren’s hand moved to her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across her skin. “I love you too,” he said simply, voice so certain it warmed the air between them.