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Sojiro hardly kept up with anything that happened after the news announced the Phantom Thieves’ Leader’s suicide.
What he remembers clearly is the rage in him when Prosecutor Niijima appeared at the door of his café.
“There is no time to explain. Keep him safe. He should be coherent enough.”
Coherent enough? What the hell even happened?
Niijima Sae leaves before he can direct his questions to her. That’s one hell of a low move, but the staggering teenager takes his attention more right now.
“What happened? Can you walk?” he gives Ren’s shoulders a slight shake when the answer delays, “Kid?”
“Drugs.”
“Drug–!”
Sojiro bites his tongue. Now is not the time to swear at whoever had laid their hands on the kid.
“Can you walk?” he asks again instead.
“Y-yeah.”
He doesn't even know how he locked up and managed to drag the kid home from the cafe.
Of course, he won't let the kid on his own in this state. And he's definitely not going to spend the night in the attic, and that’s assuming he can even take Ren upstairs somehow. Home it is.
Ren is very quiet on the way. Sojiro thinks he is using all of his energy on not dropping to the ground. Good choice.
He somehow unlocks the door without dropping his keys and keeping Ren somewhat upright.
“Shoes, kid… Okay, leave them there…”
Speaking of shoes, Futaba's aren't there. He yells her name twice to check, but there's no answer. He decides he’ll deal with her when Ren isn't half-dead.
Ren slips from his hold and collapses on the couch the moment he catches sight of it. Sojiro tells him to stay there while he lays out a futon in the guest room, no idea if he hears him or not.
He’s right where he left him when he comes back, and Sojiro does feel a bit bad to disturb him again, but this is not the way to pass out. He takes him to the newly spread futon and watches him take breaths as deep as he can.
Water. He's coming off drugs– he'll want water. He fills a glass with water.
Sojiro watches Ren struggle to hold the glass, but drinks the water greedily.
“You need hospital.”
As much as he doesn't want to admit, that's the truth.
Damn, what are they supposed to do about this?
Ren croaks a solution.
“T-takemi. She’s on it.”
To be frank, Sojiro doesn't know much about Takemi and her policies. But if the kid says she’ll keep quiet, he’ll trust that.
It's not like he has many choices.
Trust the kid. That's what he’ll do.
Dr Takemi is in front of the door in a couple of minutes. She had answered the call he made from Ren’s phone quickly enough to make Sojiro believe she really was on it without many questions.
“The pulse is steady…” she has asked Sojiro to keep him up while her stethoscope moves from his chest to his back, “Deep breaths.”
Ren’s general lack of movement is worrisome enough. A muffled grunt leaves him as the cold metal contacts his warm body. Sojiro runs one of his hands through the kid's hair, and it's the first time he's looked at him since he peeled off his school uniform with Sojiro’s help.
Takemi doesn't say much. She tells him to lie down, and he does what she says.
While Sojiro is busy trying not to stare at all the bruises on Ren’s bare torso, Takemi works efficiently; she holds up a flashlight to his eyes, makes him follow its movements, presses his bruises and abdomen and wipes the blood off his face. She tuts when she realises Ren is starting to lose his grip on his consciousness as time passes and puts some pressure on his leg.
That gets a reaction. Ren hisses as his body recoils.
“Seems to be just bruises, mostly,” she presses slightly harder at another darkening spot on Ren’s ribs, and pulls her hand back when he flinches violently, “He might be limping for a day or two. The ribs look to be hurt more. There's no telling without an X-Ray, but one of the bones is definitely cracked.”
“The police did all that.”
It’s meant to be a question, but figures he isn't surprised at all.
Sojiro sighs, a hand over his eyes.
“What about the drugs?”
“I can’t administer an antidote if I don't know what the drugs are,” Takemi truthfully answers. Sojiro doesn't ask if she can take a blood sample. He doesn't want to put the kid through that right now.
Takemi continues.
“He’s working up a fever already. Expect a spike before it gets better.”
“That's supposed to help?” he disapproves vaguely.
Takemi doesn't seem too worried. “Those drugs need to leave his system one way or another. Keep him hydrated, he'll need water; call me if the temperature reaches 40°C,” she pulls out a few tablets from her bag. One that Sojiro doesn't recognise, “If he gets nauseous, he can take these. They should be safe. It's still better if he doesn't, though.”
“I understand.”
Takemi leaves with a final clinical warning of calling her if he suddenly gets worse, and she is gone as fast as she came. Sojiro can't help but wonder what could have passed between a high schooler and a back alley doctor to make her hurry to his help as she did.
His phone buzzes in his pocket. Futaba is telling him she'll be home soon and that she is sorry for not answering her phone.
Sojiro doesn't text back. He doesn't know how much she knows.
Oh, God, he thinks, what am I supposed to tell his parents? What was he supposed to say if the kid ended up dead in that interrogation room?
“Kid,” he starts, but realises he doesn't have anything to say to Ren. He licks his lips as a nervous tic.
How did things even get to this point?
Even Sojiro wouldn't say this out loud, but Ren looked… broken.
“I’m going to bring you some clothes to change into,” he decides to be useful. Acknowledging complicated stuff isn't what he needs right now, “Think you can manage that?”
Ren mutters a confirmation, and Sojiro leaves with the promise of being quick. He picks out clothes that can fit Ren’s lanky frame the best, and isn't surprised to find him exactly how he left when he returns to Ren’s side.
Despite shivering, he hasn't even put his clothes back on. Sojiro would lie and say he's not too worried, but there lies the fact that Ren was more coherent when he first showed up at the cafe. It's like he is concussed.
If Takemi isn't worried, then he shouldn't either, he figures, and hauls Ren to a sitting position again. Ren winces at the movement– his ribs, right.
The fever also seems to be settling well, he notices after he touches him.
“I’m sorry… everythin’ hurts…”
He doesn't doubt.
“I’ve got it. You just do as I say.”
“A-and ‘m… I’m,” he insists, “You should’ve known, I should've– should've…”
Sojiro holds his shoulders, giving up the idea of dressing him for now. Cancelling that train of thought is more important now.
“I know. I know now. You're okay, I’m on your side,” he doesn’t know what he’s doing; to be fair, it just comes from his mouth without thinking. He just wants Ren to stop muttering such things guiltily when he is the one everyone has failed so far.
Sojiro waits for him to pull away when his complaints die down, but he instead brings his hand through Ren’s hair when he leans closer to him, “It’ll be alright, son.”
He rubs Ren’s back, something he can do without hurting him more, until his trembling eases.
None of this is what he had expected to do when he agreed to take the suspected delinquent kid in.
He decides not to think about that too much as he nudges Ren to raise his arms so he can get them inside the shirt.
He manages one side easier than it could've been, and yelps out in pain at the other.
“Sojiro…”
“I know, kid. I’m sorry. Let's try again.”
Ren is out of breath even after this small task. His breathing has already been hitched, but now it comes in quick gasps.
Sojiro doesn't think he can forget the look on his face.
“You're done, it's over. Rest up nice and well, got it? No one's coming through that door except me.”
As in cue, he hears the front door being knocked on.
He turns towards Ren to ask if he’ll be okay while he gets it, only to find him already passed out.
He is extra careful to shut the door quietly. He thinks about not opening the front door, but it's just Futaba, who should absolutely not be outside at this hour.
“It's just you, huh? Get inside, quick…” he turns to Futaba after she ushers inside, ignoring her shoes scattered around the genkan, something he would normally give a displeased hum, “Where were you at this hour?”
Before Futaba can explain herself, a meow from her jacket has him blink a few times. She unzips her jacket to reveal the cat Sojiro came to know as Morgana. He jumps to the ground and starts fixing his fur.
“It started to rain…” she explains half-heartedly. Her hair is wet and frizzy, now that he looks, “Where… did he…?”
Of course, she knows.
“Ren showed up. Niijima Sae brought him.”
Futaba starts excitedly at the same time, and Morgana meows just as loudly.
“Really? Where is–”
Sojiro shushed her.
“Shh– You’ll wake him up.”
Futaba’s shoulders drop.
“I want to see him.”
“Not now. He hardly fell asleep,” he says, “Take a shower, go to sleep, and we’ll see how he is.”
Futaba had apparently gone to fetch Morgana and take some phone calls with their friends after she was done with her part of the job. Sojiro would care for the non-half-assed version of that explanation, but Futaba looks stressed and tense as she already is. So he lets her off.
Plus, she promises everything will make sense tomorrow.
Sojiro settles on Ren's bedside with a mug of coffee, even though he really wants a cigarette right now.
He spots the sweaty curls pasted on his forehead and his heavy breathing. He can see a fever from where he is sitting. It must be time for a temperature check. He grabs the cloth he brought and dips it into the water.
“What do you need?” he tries to sound calm. Like if he doesn't draw attention to it, Ren won't notice either, “Can't sleep?”
“Too hot…” Ren says through gritted teeth.
“Let's get the covers off… you’re overheating,” Sojiro pulls the thin blanket down, “You're soaked. Want to change?”
“…Later.”
No pressure. Sojiro won't ask a million times.
He wrings the excess water off the cloth, which makes the kid scrunch his face in pain from the sound, but he stops before he places it on Ren's forehead. He’s clutching his head with his expression crumpled.
“What's wrong?”
“It… it really h’rts… ‘nd my leg,” his gaze wanders, “I’m– ‘m sorry.”
“Hey, hey, what are you apologising for?” Sojiro uses this opening to slide a thermometer under his armpit, “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
He doesn't quite know what he did, actually. But for now, all he sees is a kid coming off drugs and crying because his wounds hurt.
“I don't know… I don't know…” he moves to raise his hands to hide his face in his palms, but Sojiro lightly presses the arm with the thermometer to keep him down.
“Stay still. I’m trying to–” Sojiro drops his voice forcefully, “You're making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Didn’t mean to... I’m s’rry.”
“You haven't done anything to me, kid.”
He uses this moment to take the thermometer back. He can't get a decent reading with the way he is moving around. The 39.3 doesn't seem thrilling, but Takemi did say it would get worse. He can manage for a while. On a side note, he doesn't think that's the correct reading.
“Too cold…”
“Weren't you hot a minute ago?” Sojiro mutters, unsure what to do. He can't cover him with a blanket with that fever. This is seriously starting to give him a headache.
Though he isn't sure why he is mad, that's how fevers work. He isn't mad at the kid. None of it is his fault. Of course, maybe he wouldn’t be in this position if he and his little group could stop sticking their nose into other businesses–
“The phone…”
“What? Your phone is there…” he points out to the top of the drawer. Though Ren doesn't care to see, mumbling about ‘Treasures’ and ‘cognition’. Something being ‘distorted’.
“The Palace’s collapsing...”
“The only thing collapsed right now is you,” Sojiro huffs under his breath and notices some movement from his side.
Futaba is standing at the doorstep with a towel on her head.
“Futaba, back to bed,” Sojiro tries to firmly assert, despite his tiredness.
“I can't sleep before I see how he is doing.”
“You can talk to him tomorrow. He really needs the rest.”
“I’m not talking to him, I’m monitoring his stats,” Futaba counters, her voice small but sharp. She grips the doorframe, her knuckles pale. “He looks... wrong, Sojiro. If he were a Sims character, all his stats would’ve been red.”
Sojiro opens his mouth to argue that life isn’t a video game, but the words die when Ren mumbles something Sojiro can't even make up.
“’kechi…” his face twists like he is in pain. Well, he probably is.
Futaba fully invites herself in.
“What's going on?”
“He is going to be a little sick before he gets better,” Sojiro doesn't make up a lie on the spot. He sighs, “Can you give me that, on the table?”
Futaba gladly grabs the thermometer for him and sticks by his side as he places it to check Ren’s temperature again, this time with a firmer grip.
“Why is he talking about Akechi?”
The one who comes to Leblanc? Sojiro doesn't know the whole deal with that kid, but Futaba looks downright worried about the fact that he is in Ren’s fever dreams for some reason.
“It's fever talk. He’s blubbering nonsense.” He firmly says, “Probably thinking about what happened at the station.”
“He's not… that's not nonsense. He doesn't do nonsense.” She twists the end of her hair.
Futaba seems to forget that even with all his show-off personality, Ren is a kid like the rest of them.
The wait feels long as always. At least Ren isn't trying to get up now, only moving a little while he mumbles some names that Futaba reveals to be the codenames of their friends. That doesn't explain why Morgana chirps and hurries next to him, but Sojiro is too old for that nonsense anyway.
The device beeps.
“39.5… Isn't that really bad?” Futaba bites her lower lip.
“You see why he needs quiet, now?” Sojiro says instead of answering, “Go to bed. I'll handle this.”
“But!” Futaba shuffles a little closer. Sojiro picks up her towel when it falls to the floor from her head, “I’m the one who knows what he is talking about right now. I can translate.”
Sojiro looks at her. Really looks at her. She is fidgeting in her place. Her anxiety seems to have passed to the cat as well, somehow, kneading his paws on Futaba’s knee hastily.
She is not going to help herself or anyone by staying here.
“Look at you– have you even dried your hair?” Sojiro half-scolds, “If you get sick too, then I’m in real trouble.”
Futaba’s shoulders sink. Morgana jumps out of her lap before she gets up.
“I’ll... I’ll wake up early to check, then,” she mumbles, defeated.
Sojiro smiles softly, knowing Futaba's sleep schedule well enough to assume she won't wake up until noon, “Sure, you can.”
Her frown smoothens a little as she walks away from Ren. She doesn't hear him mumble something that goes straight over Sojiro's head. Morgana hurries next to him.
"Good night, then..."
“Good night… try to sleep well, alright? Take the cat with you.”
“He’ll come if he wants to… I doubt he will, though.”
She's got a point. Sojiro has never seen a cat as loyal as this one. As if to reassure, Morgana meows.
Futaba's hand lingers on the door for a moment before she shuts it behind her back.
Sojiro would like a break, but things don't go his way for the next hour.
Ren stopped trying to talk entirely shortly after Futaba left. This isn't exactly good news, because now Sojiro is sure he is trapped in his own mind. He brings the cold cloth over his eyes, his forehead, and behind his neck, hoping to relieve him a little.
Ren's eyes snap open. Sojiro knows he doesn't have much time before they screw shut again.
"Kid? You with me?"
Ren doesn't blink. His pupils are blown wide, but they aren't focusing on Sojiro’s face. Instead, they’re tracking something only he can see. His chest heaves sharply as it hurts.
“They’re gonna c’me back,” his head lolls as his eyes flutter, “I… I don't… don't wanna– hah.”
“Morgana, move.”
Sojiro has to nudge the cat away to touch his forehead. He is radiating heat at this point. Might be a good idea to crack the door open even though he doesn't want to wake Futaba.
Morgana sits in the doorway when Sojiro opens the door. He half-waits for him to go away, but the cat just swings his tail from his place.
“Hey,” he tries after he sits back down, “Do you know where you are?”
No answer.
Sojiro sighs. Well, it was worth trying.
Ren’s hand suddenly shoots out, clawing at the air between them. His fingers drag against his own cheek after it hovers over a little. He lets out a low, guttural whimper as another wave of shiver passes through his bony shoulders.
Sojiro reaches for the thermometer again, his heart drumming a frantic rhythm against his ribs. It takes forever for the device to beep, and the screen glows like a warning sign when it's done.
Sojiro doesn't want to believe what he is seeing is true.
“Damn, kid...”
This seriously isn't looking good. 39.7°C blinking back at him is surely the cause of the hallucinations.
He has laid a thin blanket over Ren, but it's time to pull the covers down. He does feel a little bad about how much he is shivering, but that's the reason why he should relieve the heat.
Ren doesn't allow Sojiro to touch him when he tries to roll his sleeves up. The cat brushes himself against Ren’s arm, offering a distraction.
“It's just me, kid. Snap out of it.”
Ren's eyes don't focus, but he is done trying to turn away. Sojiro grimaces too when the purple ring around his wrists is on display again. They unfortunately match his yellow-green mottled ribs.
“Ren, look at me.”
“I… I’m done, I… I told you.” His voice is cracking, “No one else.”
“I'm not asking you to tell me anything.”
“No– I told you… told you already.”
“I know… I know,” Sojiro keeps telling him while he soaks the cloth, “You’ll be okay, son.”
He brushes his bangs out of his face before lowering the wet cloth. Ren groans when it contacts his forehead. Morgana keeps pacing around the room.
Ren lets out a gasp of sheer terror. His eyes are glazed when he opens them to look through Sojiro and tries to focus on the doorway for the enemies that won't come.
Sojiro thinks Ren wants to get up and do something right now, and it's not like he can, but he knows the impulse is there. Even though Ren can't stand upright on his own, Sojiro still have to push him down towards the sheets to ensure he won't try to do that.
The sob rising from his throat really sounds like something inside him hurts. Well, the damage from that hell of an interrogation is clear. He doesn't doubt it’ll keep hurting for a while.
Ren’s head hits the pillow. His grimace pains to see.
He doesn't want to think about how much he resembles Futaba right now when she was deep in her isolation. He could hardly pull her back from the hallucinations. And now he can't even help the kid who has helped her from that when he couldn't.
“No more… names…” Ren chokes out, his head thrashing weakly against the pillow.
Sojiro wants to slap himself. This isn’t the time to be doubting himself. The kid needs someone other than his fifteen-year-old daughter and their weird cat. And he has agreed to take that role months ago. He had better fulfil it like a man.
He feels his burning forehead again and waits.
It takes another very slow and tearful hour before the fever breaks.
It's sudden, but things start to look better after Ren’s dry and burning skin breaks into cold sweat with a deep exhale. He still keeps hissing at the cold cloth unconsciously, but at least the noises in his head seem to be dying. Beside him, Morgana stops his pacing and sticks his nose in the crook of Ren’s neck.
Sojiro sighs in gratitude when his skin isn't hot to the touch anymore. He really was on the way to cooking himself alive with that fever.
After that initial check, Ren has fallen into the slumber again; this time, breathing a little better despite his ribs and not trembling like mad. Sojiro hopes he can get some real rest.
Apparently, he had dozed off as well, because he became aware of his surroundings to the sound of Morgana meowing in his ear.
He scratches behind the cat's ear, “You stayed the whole night, huh?”
Morgana purrs. He doesn't take advantage of Sojiro petting him as much as he usually does, and instead curls next to Ren like he's seen him do while the kid sleeps before.
Ren’s eyes slowly open. They are still unclear, but at least his gaze can focus on Sojiro.
“What is it?” he asks.
Ren blinks a few times, “Sojiro…?”
Sojiro can't help but smile bitterly, “Yeah, kid. What do you need?”
“What time is it?”
“I’m pretty sure the sun will rise in an hour. Want me to check?”
He is about to turn and reach his phone from where he left it on the table, but Ren gets caught in a coughing fit that causes his hands to fly and press against his ribs.
“Shh– you’re fine. Slowly, take it slow…”
He coughs and coughs. Each heck takes something in him that he doesn't have. The way his shaking hand grips his chest is a reminder that the police, the government, they all hurt this kid in a way Sojiro can't ever forget.
Ren’s hand comes up to his mouth as his eyes widen. Sojiro knows where this is headed. The coughing had been violent enough to stir his empty stomach, and his face had taken a sickly pale turn already.
“D-don't let me.” Ren choked out, pupils wide.
Sojiro agrees. He doesn't want to imagine what it would do to his ribs. It should be bad as it is now, with how he is doubled over; a full-blown heave would just be torture.
On a side note, he notices something a lot more than pain in his gaze. Sheer, raw panic.
“You have to breathe,” Sojiro feels alarmed by his breathing pattern. He's been having a hard time breathing already, but now the panic is making him hyperventilate. That can't be helping at all.
“Kid– Ren.”
There is a bin he left here just in case. But Ren doesn't look in its direction. His shoulders are board stiff under Sojiro's hand.
Ren manages not to heave, and Sojiro props him up with the pillow as he pours just enough water.
“Well, Takemi guessed that this would happen,” he gives him one of the antiemetic tablets she left, “Take this. But you have to keep it down, got it? We can't do this again.”
Ren removes his hand from his red-rimmed eyes. He can tell he wants nothing but sleep right now, and his scratchy voice confirms that, “I think it'll just make me sick.”
“No. I won't let that happen.”
“I… I don't know…” Ren mumbles through his dry lips. Sojiro thinks the kid is aware that he just has to take the medicine if he wants to ease his nausea, even if it has a chance to backfire, "I– I really don't want to be sick..."
“Look, I got the bin here, but you won't need it.” Sojiro does feel kind of bad to make empty promises like that, but Ren won't do well with facts right now. They’ll cross that bridge if they get to it. “You'll keep it down.”
Ren watches him for a second. Then he slowly extends his hand to accept the pill in Sojiro’s palm. Sojiro attaches the water glass to his other hand.
“Just one sip, you hear that?”
He watches Ren’s throat work as he downs the pill and sets the glass down. Sojiro keeps his hand on his back. He is still warm.
“Good. Stay like that.”
The moment passes in silent tension as they wait to see if Ren’s stomach will rebel against the medicine, Ren’s strength vanishing as his head lolls forward and he ends up leaning against Sojiro's shoulder. Sojiro uses this moment to wipe the sickly sweat from his face.
“You're okay?”
“I think so.” Ren answers, voice hoarse.
Sojiro decides to act, oblivious to Ren’s tears and takes his time finding the thermometer. His lack of complaint gives Sojiro a quick rundown of his mental state. The kid had fallen down the stairs once, and the first thing he did was fix his glasses with a smirk. He really wants to see him go back to being a know-it-all.
The thermometer reads 38.4°C, and technically it's still a fever, but at least it's getting down now.
“You’re cooling down. Hang in there for a little more.”
“I’m sorry for making you stay awake here.”
The first time he is coherent, and he is apologising. Sojiro doesn't know who he wants to punch right now.
“I agreed to it. Don't think too much about these things.”
“I…” Ren starts impulsively, “Did I say anything?”
“Mostly nonsense,” Sojiro waves a hand as he watches something akin to recognition dawn upon Ren’s eyes, “That cognitive stuff is beyond me, you know.”
Morgana gets restless again. Ren swallows nervously.
“Akechi… he was the traitor.”
Sojiro doesn't know why he is telling this to him right now, but he'll listen to whatever he needs to get off his chest. Something tells him they won't have this chance again soon.
“We knew that, still… Well, he did follow his plan in the end. I told you he wouldn't back off, Mona.”
Morgana keeps looking at the floor.
“If you're talking to the cat, you're not fine enough to stay up,” Sojiro decides to put an end to this. Ren isn’t in condition to disobey right now, his eyes half-lidded and about to pass out even though he isn't lying down.
“Go sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
His body shuts down with the threats being gone. At least his temperature is cooling down.
Sojiro knows he needs to find a way to lay him down without causing a flare in his ribs, which seems to be impossible. He could only hope Ren is too deep in his sleep to feel much.
Sojiro doesn't sleep again. He thinks he has tried, but it seems he's going to have to spend the rest of the day with that little sleep he got before. He gives up the idea of sleeping entirely when Futaba appears on the doorstep, surprisingly, before 10 A.M.
“…morning?”
“Good morning,” Sojiro keeps his voice low, encouraging Futaba to do the same, “Did you sleep well?”
Futaba makes a so-so gesture from the doorway; she's standing unsure. Morgana walks towards her and greets her as he climbs into her arms.
“Not much to see here. His fever broke,” Sojiro decides to say. He points out the mess of clothes next to the drawer, “Can you take his laundry to the washer?”
Futaba nods quietly and takes Ren’s sooty school uniform that has been thrown at the corner into her arms. Morgana follows her out.
Shortly after the pair left, he hears a shift in the neatly placed sheets, and a pair of tired eyes are gazing around the room.
“Morning. How do you feel?”
“I'm–” Ren coughs to clear his throat, “I’m okay. Better now that I can actually think.”
And that's more than what Sojiro thought they had last night. He is so glad Ren didn't take a turn for the worse.
“So,” he starts, “Breakfast in bed or can you walk to the kitchen?”
Ren slowly sits up to show he is more than capable, but fails to hide his grimace.
“Uh– I can walk. I think I’ve had enough of bedrest.”
“Do you think you can manage a shower, then? You’ve been sweating a nasty fever all night.”
Ren gets antsy and scratches the back of his head, but he can't deny that a shower would do him wonders right now. He cautiously rises from the futon, moving with the speed of someone twice his age.
“There should be spare towels in the cabinet. Suit yourself,” Sojiro says. He should leave and start on breakfast, but he doesn't feel comfortable before sending Ren off to the bathroom safely.
Ren closes his eyes, struggling to find his balance for a moment between the spinning room and his injured leg.
“Easy there,” Sojiro says, half-rising from his seat, but he stops himself when Ren grips the corner of the dresser to steady himself. The kid is stubborn, Sojiro knows that by now. He lets Ren find the right footing to avoid putting too much tension on his ribs.
“I’ve got it,” Ren mumbles, though his voice is still thin. He takes slow steps towards the hallway, then looks back at Sojiro with a look of genuine, exhausted gratitude. “Thanks, Boss. For... last night. I know I was a lot.”
Sojiro just waves him off, though his heart is still hammering a bit from the whole scare he gave him, “Just don't slip and break anything else. I’m too old to be worrying about you kids.”
While preparing breakfast, Sojiro watches a pale Futaba walk into the kitchen. He has to reassure her that Ren is very much awake and is just taking a shower.
“What did you think was happening?” he asks through curled lips. It’s not like he would just send him away like that.
Maybe Sojiro has started to lose his mind hanging out with the kids, because he thinks Morgana’s meow sounds like he is sniggering.
“I know he’s not dead, Mona!”
“The news would like to differ.”
Futaba turns towards the door hastily.
“You’re awake! Finally!”
Sojiro turns down the heat of the oven to take a look at Ren, who apparently decided to linger at the entrance of the kitchen instead of taking a seat at the table.
“Sit down, you two,” he tells them. If Futaba dragged Ren by his arm a bit harshly, he didn’t show it. But he exhales once he manages to sit down.
He looks better, Sojiro notes. His face is clear of the blood and dirt now, putting all the bruises to display.
Futaba extends her arm slowly, like she is approaching a wild animal, and frowns when Ren’s soft laugh makes her pull her hand back from his forehead.
“What?” she asks defensively.
“I'm fine now. What do you think you’ll find?”
“Stop it! You were really sick last night,” Futaba says, as if she were by his bedside the whole night. Sojiro doesn't think she would be able to leave Ren alone even for a second if she were there with him when his fever reached its peak, “You're okay, now? You still seem tired.”
“I think I’ll be tired for the next three months after this,” Ren jokes, “Futaba, I’m really fine. I feel a lot better.”
“Well, you do look better. You can stand up on your own– that's an improvement.”
Sojiro's back is turned towards the kids, so he doesn't see the way Futaba is staring at Ren until Morgana’s loud meow makes her jump.
“Sorry! Just…”
“It's–”
“Don't say it's fine! It’s not!” Futaba stomps her feet to the ground like a child.
As much as he shares the sentiment –and Ren looked even worse when he first came in, not to mention– right now, Sojiro does feel bad for the kid, being on the opposite side of Futaba’s teary eyes. He's been through a lot already.
“They roughed him up a little bit, but he's standing straight, and that's what matters,” Sojiro says with a trusting smile. Ren returns it, though it falters when he puts a plate in front of him.
“Oh, I’m not really…”
“You will eat. This is non-negotiable,” he then adds firmly, “Takemi left a bunch of medicine. And you’ll take them as well after food.”
A moment of silence settles on the table. Futaba is looking at them expectantly. Sojiro knows why Ren is averting his eyes. He hasn’t used his strict voice on him ever since the first week he came to Tokyo.
Sojiro sighs. Taking care of kids is surely a headache.
“You don't have to finish it all, just… eat something. You'll feel better.”
The motion on the table picks up again. Sojiro places a small plate on the floor for Morgana, but it takes some convincing to make him move from Ren’s lap.
“That’s one loyal cat. He stayed beside you all night,” Sojiro remembers, “Didn’t even make much noise.”
“Well, the group chat went crazy as well,” Futaba adds, her comment somehow adding more weight to Ren’s sunken shoulders, “I couldn’t even tell them much. They almost came all over here.”
A disaster, that would be. Sojiro doesn’t say out loud. It's already a nightmare keeping one teenager and a cat in line. He can’t imagine five more of them.
“Was I really that out of it last night? I don't really remember…” Ren picks at his food with a frown.
Yeah, no wonder, Sojiro almost scoffs. Between the drugs and the high fever, it's a miracle he even remembers his own name.
“We talked about this, don't fret,” he really doesn't think it's as big a deal as Ren makes it out to be, “If you can't have a breakdown when you're pushing 40 degrees, when can you?”
“You mumbled about wanting to pet Morgana. That was sweet.” Futaba adds as an afterthought.
“…I guess that checks it out.” Ren tries to smile.
He must have an idea of what he has said. Mostly about that cognitive stuff and his beloved chess friend. It's still concerning to a degree, but what more is there to say?
“I was monitoring your fever. Not going to lie, you worried me a little back there,” he smiles uncomfortably, “Will you let me check one last time?”
He allows Sojiro to approach him with the thermometer. Sojiro gives it to Ren and watches him stick it under his arm. Futaba suddenly decides to busy herself with refilling their coffee.
Ren gives the devices to Sojiro after checking them himself. He must be satisfied with the 38 degrees to have his smug look back.
“It barely counts as a fever. I think I’m cleared.”
It’s not like he can force him to stay in bed.
“You’ll keep it easy today,” he tells him anyway, “No more of anything that involves that shady prosecutor.”
“About that… we need to hold a meeting this night,” Futaba says quietly. Ren smiles cheekily next to her.
Honestly, what can he even do at this point? If he doesn’t let them have it at the café, then they’ll just find somewhere else to have it. Plus, Sojiro thinks he really can use some answers.
“I’ll close the shop.”
Ren sleeps a little more and appears to be mostly fine when the time comes to go and meet everyone at the café. Sojiro has been in Leblanc for most of the day, since suddenly closing it for the day would look suspicious.
“Sleep was good to you, it seems,” he comments on Ren’s still pale but mostly better complexion when he comes to gather him. He has already put on his school uniform. He got arrested and beaten by the cops in his school uniform. Sojiro doesn’t think he’ll ever stop holding his grudge against the force.
“Yeah,” Ren stops massaging his head when he realises Sojiro is looking at him, “I hope they didn’t go too crazy.”
Sojiro locks the door. “You didn’t talk to any of them?” he raises his eyebrow. He is pretty sure Futaba has been talking with the other kids nonstop since yesterday.
“Futaba had my phone the whole day. She is making sure it’s not getting tracked,” Ren explains tiredly, “You know, since I’m dead; my phone shouldn’t show any activity either.”
This particular new development will take time before they adjust to it, but Sojiro just sighs.
It’s a short walk from home to Leblanc. Sojiro is once again filled with gratitude that the kid ended up somewhat okay. He couldn’t even walk this road on his own last night.
“Kid.”
Ren looks up to him. The exhaustion in his eyes is hidden behind his glasses, but Sojiro can read them anyway.
“You don’t have to entertain anyone, got it? If you feel sick again, say the word, and I’ll find a way to send everyone away.”
Whatever Ren was expecting him to say, that’s not it, he can tell.
He nods politely.
“Thank you, Sojiro.”
That’s a tired kid. Very exhausted already, and they still have business to do, they keep saying.
Sojiro opens the door. Everyone rushes towards them.
“Look who's here.”
He brings Ren inside and watches the mask form on his face in real time.