Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Suspect confirmed, cuff him.”

As he woke, it took all of his strength to keep the contents of his stomach right where it was. The metallic taste that almost reminded him of the sharp taste of blood, but not quite, was nauseating. But throwing up would probably use up all the energy he had left. In an attempt to raise his head, he only succeeded in falling deeper into the unconscious stupor he was trying so hard to fight off.

But still, despite the urge to let the darkness take him, the blurred sound of faraway voices was enough to bring back that same nauseous feeling of a deepening pit in his stomach, even if the words themselves only reached his ears in bits and pieces.

“Gues......drug.... too....ong......ake him up.”

That would make sense. This phantom thief had taken more than his fair share of beatings in his life, he shouldn’t be so exhausted by a couple of corrupt adults taking the opportunity to play bad cop, so drugs... That would make sense.

Still, knowing you’re drugged doesn’t do much to stop you from feeling like crap. Almost as crap as the cold gallons of icy cold water splashing across his face, the back of his neck, drenching his school uniform and making the cold metal of his chair all the more apparent.

“No dozing off.”

Yeah, duh. That much was obvious. If he wasn’t so exhausted he might have scoffed. He sat there, shivering as the looming figures drew in ever closer. He wanted nothing more than to wipe the dripping water from his eyes but upon finding he couldn’t- hands restrained behind the back of the chair by the somehow familiar feeling of handcuffs- the panic set in. It’s a puzzle that anyone could put together, and a painful reminder that he wasn’t here for a nap.

The mission was coming back to him, even if it was still in bits and pieces. The edges of a plan that may or may not have gone as planned. Was this the plan? To be handcuffed to a chair, with these assholes staring down at him?

“You still don’t get it, do ya?”

He kept pulling against the handcuffs, futile of course, but he was just a kid. A kid alone in a dark room, wet, cold and afraid. Anyone would panic, right? But the boot came hard, and it came fast, sending the boy flying from the chair and smashing hard into the wet concrete with no arms to break his fall. He coughed and spluttered with shock more than pain- the soreness would catch up with him, he knew that, but for now the fear was working hard, he could feel the adrenaline in his veins. That adrenaline came in handy as the boot once again made a reappearance, crushing his head, slowly, further and further into the solid ground. He managed to get away with just a few whimpers of pain, and could almost begin to lie to himself that it made him look tough. That was the only light of hope he had right now, the possibility that maybe he could keep a brave front.

“Come on, cooperate, or what, you want another shot?”

This guy’s voice was really starting to piss him off. That mightier-than-thou attitude that only comes when a bully’s so completely sure that they’re big enough to win a fight against someone who can’t, or won’t, fight back. But at least there was another shining light, a chance that maybe this would be a little easier. The blinking red light of a camera drew his eye, and for a moment he dared to have the naive hope that they’d-

“Huh? What about the camera? Are you thinking it can be used as video evidence?”

Jeez, it was like they were reading his mind. He felt the pressure of a bootmark on his cheek lessen, as a greasy hand met the scruff of his hair and pulled him uncomfortably upwards, impossible to find a position that didn’t send his entire body screaming. He really hoped the adrenaline wouldn’t wear off this fast. It was already taking every ounce of energy in his body to hold back, to stay silent, to not give these assholes the satisfaction of an answer. What’s that thing in America, the thing they always say in the movies? “You have the right to remain silent?” That was never really his style, but some nagging feeling in his chest was enough to keep his lips sealed. He wouldn’t give these guys the honour of making him the bad guy, not again.

“Didn’t you hear my question? Answer!”

And with that, he felt his head meet cement, again, and the heavy kick to the ribs was as immediate as it was painful. That familiar urge to lose his lunch returned, but he found there was nothing in his stomach to even throw up, hacking and spluttering on the ground as he did anything he could to get the wind back into his lungs, and to not cry.

Dear god, please don’t let him start crying in this place.

“Obstruction of justice, blackmail, defamation, possession of weapons...”

Yeah, that all sounds about right, and proud of it too. He wondered if these shitheads could even tell the difference between a real gun and a better-than-average toy. They’d probably shit right through those obnoxious black suits of theirs if he was free, if he had his power, had the voice in his heart...

“Manslaughter too, yeah? Talk about the works.”

Oh, if they only knew... Not that they’d care. They’d probably just start kicking him harder until he was begging to be taken to jail. He knew these types of ‘cop’ didn’t give a shit about the truth, just finding a culprit.

“To think that all these crimes were led by a punk like this...”

Any culprit. Anyone who fits the bill will do. That’s just the way of things. He tilted his head, neck aching with the sheer effort, as he caught the glint of the fluorescent light bouncing off the clipboard.

“...And you seemed to be enjoying every second of it... Huh? You should know your place.”

As the leading asshole said those words- unaware of just how correct he really was, how much he did enjoy it, and so much more- his two cronies marched forward, grabbing him by the arms and pulling free the shackles, before throwing him back down into an upright position. He rubbed his wrists, taking the small victory of freedom where he could, but the sight of deep brown bruises forming up and down his hands, his wrists... it was a painful reminder that they wouldn’t grant him the luxury of free arms if they didn’t have something much worse than a beating planned. And that suspicion was confirmed as the ringleader crouched down, meeting him at eye level, and a clipboard bridging the gap

“Sign here,” he grunted with the same sternness and coldness of the icy cold puddle he found himself sitting in. “It’s a confession under your name.”

Yeah, sure, like he’d just up and sign it, right? The so-called leader of the phantom thieves giving up at the first sight of a pen and paper? Was this asshole for real? It almost hurt how hard he bit his tongue to keep the wise-cracks to himself. It would be so easy to yell, to get pissed and make a scene, but that American cliche kept ringing in his head.

But the right to remain silent doesn’t say anything about pushing away stupid clipboards with bullshit made-up charges, right? It was the only thing he could think to do to keep his dignity, and of course let this piece of shit know just how beneath him he truly was, all without saying a word.

“I see.”

...Shit, he’d just made things worse, hadn’t he? Somehow, he had a knack for that, somehow always choosing the worst thing to say or do, and ruining his life as a consequence, even when he was staying silent.

“I need your hand to sign this, but...” The sudden pain in his leg was agonising, steel-capped boot dug in, through hamstring, into femur, cutting off blood, the phantom thief gritted his teeth as the oh-so embarrassing tears crept into the corners of his eyes as memories he thought he’d just begun to learn to keep in the past spilled forward, not again, not again...

“I don’t care if you end up losing a leg.”

Those ten little words were enough for him. He wanted so badly to play it tough, but everyone had a breaking point. This time, as the asshole in the black suit shoved the clipboard toward him, he took it with a defeated grunt. It was gonna happen eventually, but if he didn’t already feel small before, broken on the ground like this, he felt positively tiny right now as the man pulled him forward by the collar, needing to get the last word in as so many bullies of his type do.

“Don’t expect to walk out of here in one piece. We’re going to make you understand, one must take full responsibility for their actions...”

The phantom thief took the pen, found the dotted line, and signed his name.

“Ryuji Sakamoto”

This plan really sucks ass... why did it have to be him, again?

Chapter Text

It was hard to concentrate, sat at the stainless-steel table with a pounding head and a leg screaming out for a Tylenol, or at the very least some of that kiddie medicine that’s supposed to taste like strawberries but totally doesn’t. Ryuji sat there in the cold, head in his hands as he tried to listen to the lady in front of him, even with the black spots in his vision making it almost as hard as trying to listen in class. Damn, even with his life on the line, it really was hard to pay attention.

“I didn’t expect it’d be you. Although, looking at the reports, I’m surprised we didn’t catch onto you sooner.”

Sae Nijima, Makoto’s sister. He’d never met the real one in person, just the cognitive version; a victory-obsessed powerhouse with a penchant for cheating and a refusal to win fair. If Ryuji were facing off against the inner-her, he might have considered throwing in the tool. Although, if it were the inner her, he wouldn’t have to be sat here, taking all this bullshit. He’d wreak havoc or at least go down swinging.

Kind of hard to do that, when the thought of even standing up was enough to make him want to lie down a year.

“...I couldn’t figure out the method behind it.”

Damn, had the lady been talking all this time? He couldn’t remember. There were a lot of things Ryuji couldn’t remember right now. Small things like the way his best friend would adjust the weight of the bag in his shoulder while the black cat inside of it tried to find a comfy spot among the gym clothes and textbooks, the way the artist would fix his focus on some mundane corner of the cafe, framing it between his fingers envisioning some painting that was too complex for him to understand the true meaning of, but still found impressive in a wordless type of way, those details sat at the front of Ryuji’s mind as naturally as the names of colours. But other things... They just felt too far away. He couldn’t even seem to remember the fate of the casino. Had it crumbled? He simply didn’t know

...Maybe that shadow still exists in Sae. She might still be gunning for his confession. She might even scribble down something that vaguely resembles his signature and call ti a day, best to stay silent and-

“Psh, yeah, of course you couldn’t.”

The words even surprised Ryuji as they left his mouth, not that he had the strength to react to his own slipup. He wasn’t the type to pretend to be as calculated as the prosecutor’s sister, or as effortlessly chill as the real leader of the phantom thieves. He wasn’t even the type to try and pretend he was anything more than a loudmouthed idiot who doesn’t know when to shut up, but even he knew better than to talk right now. It was the one thing he was meant to do right now; shut up. So why was he responding? It felt wrong, unnatural, in a way he couldn’t quite place.

The urge to vomit on an empty stomach was coming back.

“True. There’s no way I’d be convinced of such a ‘world’ just by reading the reports.”

Ryuji was beginning to see the family resemblance. Talking about the existence of metaverse as an improbable fact instead of a ridiculous new reality was really something the Nijima sisters had in common. He wasn’t sold on their relation watching her boast about her guaranteed victories at the casino, but here, in that ironed pantsuit and soft but still somehow intimating voice? It was like looking in a taller, greyer mirror.

In his drugged-up fog, Ryuji could almost begin to see himself trusting her.

“...it seems you’re at least coherent.”

Almost.

Sae began again, asking question after question. Even with the exhaustion creeping through his bones, Ryuji couldn’t help but chuckle, hanging his head and running a pair of bruised, aching hands through his delinquent-yellow hair. He felt a pair of fists slam against the table, but he didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t like they were hitting him this time, so why should he care?

“You think this is a joke?! Do you even understand the charges against you? We’re not gonna stop with defamation, you know that, right? You caused a major incident, Sakamoto. The courts don’t take terrorism lightly.”

“Yeah, I just didn’t think I’d be on this side of the table already. I thought I had another couple of years before you guys started pinning shit on me because I look the part.” Ryuji felt that same feeling in his stomach grow as the words spilled out. Sure, he was talking a big game and trying his damned hardest to smile like the cocky bastard they thought he was, and it wasn’t empty words either, but still, this was him trying to be silent. Surely it wasn’t this hard to shut the hell up, was it?

“Skull, you’re pathetic...”

Ryuji looked up with a sharp crick in his neck, where the hell did Sae learn his code-name? But Sae was nowhere to be found, but neither was the owner of the voice.

“What, are you gonna come crawling back to the track team?”

From behind him this time. Ryuji ignored the sharp pain his ribs as he tried to find the familiar owner of the voice, but it was nothing, darkness, not even the harsh-white lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Just darkness and familiar voices.

“I said, TWELVE laps, not ten you morons! What’s the matter, Sakamoto can’t even count? Did that dad of yours knock the brains out of your head as well as your sense, or are you just that stupid?”

No, no... Not that voice. Please god not that bastard’s voice...

But he couldn’t fight it off, and the blackness dissolved into the soggy green of the school field, he felt his hands clawing into the mud below him, wheezing and panting for breath, on his hands and knees, the rest of his team not too far behind him either. But the look on their faces said it all, that their suspicions had been confirmed.

It wasn’t fair. How the hell did this bastard even know about his dad? And to go yelling about it like it’s some sick joke? If it weren’t for the hit bile rising in his throat, he might have screamed, but he was too out of breath. An eleventh lap really might kill him at this rate. Why couldn't the rest of his team see that no one trains like this? Not even an Olympian! Why were they just taking it? Why was HE taking it?

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re too sore. This is barely a warmup! Although if you don’t think you can hack it maybe you’re better of quitting. We don’t want athletes who’s hearts just aren't in it. Maybe you’re just here so you can avoid going home to dear old dad, is that right, Sakamoto?”

His body moved on its own. If the colour red was a feeling instead of a colour, it would be how Ryuji felt; red. He tore himself to his feet, fists clenched as he launched himself at Kamoshida. He didn’t care about the tightness in his chest, the soreness of his calves, all he wanted was for this bully to shut up. He’d make Kamoshida shut the fu-

“Hey, are you even listening?”

Ryuji’s leg ached more than usual, as Sae leaned forward in her chair

“First you think this interrogation is some kind of joke, and now you’re staring off into space? I don’t have a lot of time to talk to you, it’s probably a foreign concept to a kid like you, but I need you to take this seriously, or I can’t help you. Got that?”

Ryuji’s leg hurt.

“...got it.”

“Now, start from the beginning, as the leader of the phantom thieves, your first target...”

A file was placed on the desk, but once again, Ryuji found it hard to concentrate. Sae was explaining the case as if he wasn’t even aware of it. It was enough to make his eyes roll, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw darkness, and darkness led back to that day.

Better to stay in the present, with the smell of metal and concrete and... salt?

“When I told you to wreak havoc, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”

A new voice this time, but now it sounded like... Himself.

“Guilt and innocence are things of the past, none of them matter in this prison. They decided a long time ago you belonged here, a prisoner of a fate that was forced upon you, but if my voice is reaching you now, there’s still a treasure for you to find, even as the gallows await.”

That voice shouldn’t be able to reach him here, not in this world, and yet it was clear as day. The photo of that royal scumbag smiled up at him, Sae’s calculated way of talking about his assault like mere ‘self-defence’, it made him sick.

“I implore you, save yourself. You can still make your mark upon the world, even from this dungeon.”

“I hear ya, Captain Kidd.”

Chapter Text

Ann Takamaki stood to the side of the gym; arms folded across her waist as she stared at the empty stage. Kamoshida had been taken away, and the rest of the teachers were doing their best to disperse the weakening crowds of confused students, but Ryuji knew Ann. There was no way she was gonna just move on. Who could blame her? She’d survived the cruelty of the pervy teacher, and earned the rare luxury that most survivors don’t get; the luxury of watching their abuser grovel for a redemption that will never come. To watch him recount his crimes in full; no excuses, no manipulation, just pure regret, beginning to feel even half of the pain that Ann had gone through, that Shiho went through.

It was unheard of, no abuser just… changes like that. At least not by natural means.

Despite how long he had known the blonde girl, Ryuji couldn’t begin to guess what was going on in her mind, what feeling was making her hug herself so tight. Was it relief, regret, worry, exhilaration? Could be any of those things, Ryuji knew he was definitely trying to sort those feelings out for himself.

It had worked. Their gambit had worked, and Kamoshida had confessed everything, just like the damn cat had said. All the horrible things that stuck out to him like trophies of his exploits, they had come tumbling out of his mouth in front of the entire school, every last bit of it.

Except……

“You’re still going on about the talking cat? If you’re making up some nonsense story to protect your accomplices it won’t work, Sakamoto.”

“Listen lady, do you want me to tell you the truth or not?” Ryuji shot back at the prosecutor, leaning backwards in his chair. He figured he might as well get into something adjacent to comfortable, right? The pain wasn’t gonna fade anytime soon, and this headache only seemed to be getting stronger with time, but hey, if they want a slacking juvenile delinquent… Ryuji’s gonna give them exactly that, much to Sae’s frustration.

“I want you to tell me what you did in a way that makes sense! Do you really think I’m gonna sit here and listen to you try and convince me that you made a teacher confess because you ‘entered his castle’? Give me a break!”

“If you didn’t know deep down it was true, you wouldn’t still be here, right?” And much to Ryuji’s surprise, that actually took Sae off guard. He was just saying what sounded cool in the moment, but clearly. it rang true, at least a little bit.

“I’ll admit it sounds absurd, but I’ll also admit that some of this nonsense actually does align with parts of Kamoshida’s confession. That’s the only reason I’m still entertaining this.”

“That and the ticking clock, right?” It honestly scared Ryuji a little bit, how good he was at acting like he wasn’t in pain. How quickly he adjusted, how easily he could make his own voice sound so nonchalant, as if he couldn’t feel his ribcage rattling with every breath. “Your bosses don’t trust you to get this done, so my confession is your only hope at keeping your job?”

“…at any rate, I have something more important to discuss about your testimony.” Sae avoided the question. She wasn’t the one dosed up on truth serum right now, she wouldn’t be goaded so easily into answering his questions. “You’ve made a clear case that you care about all this, and you had the support of your fellow accomplices, likely victims of Kamoshida, we can figure out who they are with a bit of digging. But what I don’t have yet is your connection.”

“What did you say?” Now, it was Ryuji’s turn to be surprised.

“Kamoshida was guilty of everything, that much we can confirm. The attempted suicide of Shiho Suzui, the exploitation of the female volleyball team, the assaults on the male volleyball team, and of course the closure of the track team. Allow me to clarify. You held a grudge against Kamoshida since he shut down the team nearly two years ago, correct? He must have hurt your chance at scholarships pretty significantly, am I correct?”

“W-well, yeah, but- “

“I’m not done. To me that doesn’t feel like enough of a motive. What would draw a slacker like you to create the phantom thieves, surely it can’t just be the closing of one single club, there must have been more. Am I wrong?” There she is, the Sae that Ryuji recognised from the palace. She’s calm, and a total professional, but still, she could smell the blood in the water like a shark, and nothing was gonna get in her way.

“No, you ain’t wrong, but- “

“Were you involved with one of Kamoshida’s real victims? Perhaps you felt attached to your friend from middle school and acted on her behalf. Or maybe you took a shining to the new kid and wanted a chance at clearing his name after his criminal record was leaked. Is that what drove you to action?”

“…’real’ victim?” Ryuji’s voice was low. All the bravado he’d been mustering up all this time felt like it had been sucked out by a vacuum as Sae made her case, bounced around her theories. His mind was pouring over it all, every single beautiful moment of Kamoshida’s confession. He’d felt it too back then, that nagging feeling that it wasn’t complete, but he’d pushed it down, buried it, assumed that more would come out over time. The whole ugly truth.

Maybe everyone was right, he really was a moron.

“You watched his confession, right? All of it? Not just the stuff that got leaked at school, but all of it. The stuff that they don’t share with the public. Fancy lawyer like you probably spent hours watching the footage to build this case, right?” Ryuji’s hand made a half-assed gesture towards the camera blinking in the corner. This one certainly wasn’t recording anything, but it’s not like Kamoshida was taken to a site like this, no, no… an underground basement interrogation room like this is probably saved for the ‘real’ criminals, like him.

“Of course I did.”

“What the hell did he say about me?”

“Nothing. That’s what makes this so confusing. I had to borrow an old yearbook to find the connection between you two. And still, I can’t figure out why that would be enough to make you- “

Ryuji had heard enough of this.

“He broke my FUCKING leg!” If it weren’t for the black haze at the edges of his vision, Ryuji might have stood up, punched a wall, thrown that stupid case file across the room, but he couldn’t. Even just raising his voice was enough to send him careening where he sat and needing to place a hand on the table to stop his vision from swimming, taking deep, steadying breaths. Ryuji felt like he was gonna tip over, and he only had himself to keep himself upright.

Sae, for once, wasn’t taking the opportunity to probe further. She sat there, waiting for him to continue. Ryuji couldn’t see her face as he stared down at the murky reflection in the dark metal table, he didn’t want to look up.

“He was going on and on, saying shit about my family, stuff he had no right to even know about, laughing about it in front of my friends. He was trying to get me to lash out, he thought I’d lose my temper as easily as my dad, and the bastard was right! The worst part of it all was that he was right. I lost my goddamn mind, and before he broke my femur, I…” Ryuji swallowed, sinking his head down into the table. He didn’t want to be saying all this. Why was he saying all this? It didn’t matter. It certainly didn’t matter to Kamoshida, even with the change of heart he was just a foul-tempered footnote in the middle of a long and disgusting rap sheet. Not even that, apparently.

“…I didn’t even land a goddamn hit on him, and he broke my leg anyway. Self-defence my ass… After that, he had all the dirt he needed to shut us down for good, and it was all my fault.”

“He never mentioned... I-I mean…” Sae sounded more like Makoto than ever, unsure what to do when her carefully thought-out theories went out the window, realising that she doesn’t know every single detail like she thought she did.

“That enough motive for ya?”

“…I’m not done questioning you yet, if this story of yours doesn’t add up, then there’ll be no way for you to protect your accomplices once we figure them out. The next to receive a calling card was…”

Ryuji had had enough. He refused to pull his head up from the table. Maybe if he stayed here long enough, Sae might assume he died of an overdose or something. But instead, she continued on, her description of the fraudulent artist drowning out, as memories came back.

“Man, I’m glad for you, looks like those weird rumours are gonna go away.” Ryuji remembered smiling over at Ann. He truly meant it. He’d been wrong about her and bought into those stupid rumours about her being that asshole’s ‘girlfriend’, just like everyone else, but now the whole school knew the truth.

“My thing doesn’t really matter.” Her answer in that moment had surprised him, until the rug was pulled from under him. “We made Kamoshida apologise about Shiho; that’s more than enough for me.”

“You should hurry and tell her about it then.” It was the only thing he could think to say. Anything else would sound awful.

How else do you admit you’re jealous of a girl in a coma? At least when you’re actually hurt, people will acknowledge that you’re bleeding.

That should have been the case, right?

Chapter Text

“Still, you refuse to implicate your accomplices?” Sae was persistent. “You think we can’t just figure it out if we want to?”

“What, you think that low of me that I’d just hand ’em over to ya on a silver platter because you asked nicely?” The drugs in Ryuji’s system may be making him honest, but they sure weren’t making him any more cooperative than he had to be. Unfortunately for Sae, it was the honest truth that Ryuji had no intention to give anyone up, no details more than necessary, and this truth made it hard for Ryuji not to smirk. If the prosecutor wanted to fill in the gaps, fine by him, but not a single name of a single accomplice was gonna escape his lips. That much was for certain.

“Fine then, let me change the question. Other than direct accomplices, you must have had outside help.”

“Maybe.” The bruised-up delinquent gave a nonchalant shrug.

“Individuals who knew your goals and helped you meet your objectives. Someone who provided you with the ammunitions we found on your person during the arrest, someone to teach you to use said guns effectively, maybe even a role-model who helped strengthen your mental fortitude, does any of this sound familiar?”

“I dunno.” Ryuji scratched behind his ear.

“You don’t know. Hm. Interesting.”

“Wait, what?” Sae had that look in her eyes. He’d seen it in her sister, in her shadow, like she’d found the blood in the water, and now she was going in for the kill. But Ryuji couldn’t even figure out where he might be bleeding.

In the metaphorical sense, that is. Ryuji knew damn well where he was actually bleeding, even if the cuts and scrapes across his body were already in the process of clotting at this point.

“Let me ask you another question, then, Sakamoto.” Sae stared down at her notebook, pen tapping against the corner as she very deliberately avoided eye contact with the roughed-up boy on the other side of the table. “Are you the leader of The Phantom Thieves?”

“…Fuck.” Thought Ryuji.

“What- why is that a question?”

“For starters, you’re not the leadership type. Based on how little we had on you before today it was hard to get an outline of who the leader might be. When you were apprehended, we naturally assumed you were the ringleader. Being trusted to escape on your own, all that evidence in your pockets, not to mention that confession you signed. No matter what you admit to me now, you’re going down as the leader for this, but I’ve been thinking it for a while… you’re not the one in charge, are you, Sakamoto?”

“And what makes you think I’m not the “Leader” type. I could SO be a leader! I'm Leader-y as hell!”

“But you’re not?” Now Sae was the one who was smirking. She had him,  she’d figured it out. The one puzzle piece that wasn’t quite fitting.

“I-“ Ryuji was pale in the face, dizzy and dehydrated and cold, but the accusations were making his face feel so hot he knew his cheeks must be turning red, but he still couldn’t stop himself. “I never said that, you’re totally putting words in my mouth!”

“You didn’t have to say it. It’s about what you didn’t say. Remember, I asked you about your accomplices, and you told me you’d never give them up. Is that still true?”

“Yeah, duh!”

“And then I asked about your connections. And your answer was quite different. Do you remember?”

“…I said I dunno what-!“

“Exactly. ‘You don’t know’. You mean to tell me that the Leader of the Phantom Thieves, a terrorist group that evaded capture for this long doesn’t know the identities of his own supplies? I’d say I’ll believe it when I see it, but I don’t see it.”

“Wh-who cares?! That doesn’t prove anything! Both just mean that I ain’t telling you shit, lady!”

“No, they are two distinctly different things, especially in your case. You know the drugs they gave you make it so you can’t lie to me. You’ve known all along. It’s not foolproof, but it does the job well enough. You can feel it. Right?”

Ryuji was still red in the face, biting his lips so hard that he now had yet another wound on his face to add to the collection. That metallic near-blood taste in his mouth from experimental black-site drugs was now actually mixing with the taste of blood.

“So, with that in mind, answer me yes or no, are you the leader of the Phantom Thieves?”

“…No, I’m not.” Ryuji wanted to scream, but right now, he’d played directly into Sae’s hand and lost. God, he hated losing. But as he’d learnt very well recently, so did Sae. She was so clearly trying not to smile with the euphoria of a small victory that it nearly made Ryuji want to be sick again.

“Thought so, as I said, you’re not the usual profile of a ringleader.”

“Why, cuz I’m a moron?”

“…I never said that.”

“Nah, but you’re thinking it. It’s cool. Everyone does.”

“Does ‘everyone’ include your leader? The one you’re taking the blame for?”

“…I dunno”

“Is that why you’re here, instead of them? Are you truly sure that if the roles were reversed, they’d be this stubbornly in your corner? If they were so willing to let you risk getting caught, what makes you think they wouldn’t have given me your name already?” She really just kept on pushing and probing, trying to squeeze any form of information or answer or even a clue out of him. Almost like it was her job or something.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady.”

“Oh, are you so sure? Please, enlighten me about what the real Leader is like, then.”

“…Nah. I’m not that big of a moron.”

“…Fine then, moving on.”

Chapter Text

This plan really sucks ass... why did it have to be him?  

Ryuji was beginning to remember, as much as the serum was laying against his brain like a heavy fog, it was coming back, piece by piece.

--- 

“I’ll do it.” Ren Amamiya was a hard guy to predict. He was quiet, and carried himself with an almost anonymous coolness, and yet on occasion that he’d open his mouth, Ryuji always found himself surprised. He’ll never forget the time Ren had all but outed him as a phantom thief that one time. And yet this was the most unsurprising thing Ren had ever said. 

There were protests of course, insistence that they could make another plan, but it didn’t take too long for the matter to be settled. Joker would stay behind, Joker would get caught, and Joker would be the bait. It made sense, this sort of task falling to their unshakeable, composed leader, the guy who barely even yelled as he was the first to rip the mask from his eyes, he could take it. 

And with the matter settled, the plan was in place, all they needed to do was wait for the perfect day to send the calling card, and one by one, the team filed out of the dusty LeBlanc attic that their friend had been calling home for the past year. Ryuji had given one last look back at his friend before following the rest out, leaving him, his surrogate sister and his cat to work out the fine details, all the complicated stuff to make all the pieces of the plan fall together. But it wasn’t until the train was pulling in that Ryuji realised, he’d left his blazer back at the cafe. The boy groaned in frustration, rubbing the back of his neck as he weighed the options. He didn’t think he had a spare back home for school the next day, but it was getting late, were there even any more trains leaving Yongen-Jawa after this? 

But in the time it took for Ryuji to make up his mind, the doors had closed, the rest of his friends unable to hide their laughter as Ryuji stood at the platform with a dumbfounded look as the Phantom Thieves pulled away. Man, they were gonna crucify him for this in the group chat... but at least it made the decision easy. He’ll grab his jacket, and if there aren’t any more trains, surely Ren wouldn’t mind letting him crash on that sofa of his. He should probably hurry though, before the cafe gets locked up for the evening.  

Mind made up, Ryuji turned tail and began jogging at an even pace. He caught the site of bright orange hair as he hurried on back to the cafe. Futaba must be on her way back to Boss’s place now that the plan was in motion, and it seems Morgana was hitching a ride on her shoulders this time, instead of sitting cosied up in Ren’s duffel like usual. He didn’t have much time to think about what they could be up to, before the younger girl took a phone out of her pocket and started waving it mischievously in Ryuji's face. The group chat was open, and it seems a photo of him standing abandoned at the platform had already made its way there. 

“Classic walk of shame!” Futaba goaded with her usual pep “Gonna beg Ren for a room at the inn?” 

“What? Nah, I forgot my blazer, it’s not a big deal! I’ll just get the next one.” 

“Better hurry,” Morgana chimed in, nestling against the fur of Futaba’s coat. Ryuji could have gone his whole life without knowing what it looks like when a cat smirks at you. “Knowing you, you’ll miss the next four trains and end up sleeping in an alley somewhere.” 

“Hey, you’re the cat, here! You’re the one who should be sleeping in a damn alley!” 

“Clock’s ticking~” The cat responded with a glint in its eye “....and I’m NOT a cat!” 

Ryuji hurried on, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket as the group continued to tear him apart. He’ll defend his honour later though; he just has to get to the cafe before Ren locks it- 

...He never expected to find the cafe still unlocked at this time of night, but that wasn’t the weirdest part of it all. Ryuji slowly swung the door open, seeing nobody. Smelling no coffee or curry. Ren wasn’t busy making dinner, or sweeping between the stools, he wasn’t in the bathroom either. But he wouldn’t have gone to bed without locking the door, surely? Ryuji shrugged, guessing he was upstairs. 

And that was when Ren Amamiya, the wild card of the Phantom Thieves, surprised Ryuji the most. Of all the things he didn’t expect from the leader of the phantom thieves, he never would have guessed he’d find him sat on his bed, head in his hands... shaking, no, crying. 

Ren Amamiya was crying. 

Ryuji stood at the turn of the attic stairwell, watching for a moment with a pit rising in his stomach. He never expected Ren to be the type to cry, it was unknown territory. He wasn’t sure what to do, what would make it better, what would make it worse. One thing was clear though, Ren had waited until he was alone to let this out. How often was Ren alone these days, with Morgana never far away, how long had he been holding this in? 

Maybe.... maybe Ryuji should just go. He began to backpedal, trying to slowly, unnoticed, slip back down the stairs. But unfortunately, this old building was not built for the stealthiest of exits, with an unfortunate creak of the wooden floorboards giving Ryuji away in a manner that was most embarrassing for a Phantom Thief, and lifting Ren’s head, who was already wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Not even an intruder would be allowed to see Ren cry, it seems. 

“...forget the plan already?” Ren broke the awkward silence, as Ryuji stepped back into the light, knowing he was caught. 

“To forget the plan, I’d have to fully understand it first, dude. You know this shit’s above my paygrade.” Ryuji scratched the back of his neck, as he slowly approached the bed. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“It’s just allergies.”  

“Psh, sure, allergic to what? Dust? Cats? C’mon man, I know something’s up, I’m not that stupid!” 

The silent look that Ren shot back was hurtful, like the opportunity to make a joke was right there, and he wasn’t gonna say it... But it still hurt all the same, knowing that Ren was clearly thinking it. 

“Dude, it’s alright if you’re worried about the plan, hell, I am too! You don’t gotta play the fearless leader all the time! But as we said, you’re a damn miracle worker in the palaces, if anyone can pull it off, it’s you!” 

Ren’s voice was low, staring at the floorboards. “I know I won’t mess it up. That’s not...” 

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“...Last time I got arrested they went easy on me, but I could tell they were holding back.” ...Right. Somehow it was easy to forget that Ren had been through this once before. Grabbing his friend’s arm, he slowly pulled him down onto the couch, seeing the shaking in his legs and wanted to avoid Ren from embarrassing himself by falling over or anything like that. Ren was a prideful person, after all. 

“Being convicted of assault is one thing, but I’m still a minor. They couldn’t lay a hand on me, so they settled for ruining my life instead. But still... They were looking for me to make any mistake at all, any excuse to show me they were bigger than me, stronger than me. They knew they’d get away with it if they did.” 

The story was all too familiar to Ryuji, who’s empathetic face dropped into a scowl at the very thought. Adults all too eager to use self-defence as an excuse to do as they please against someone who can’t fight back. 

“...What we’ve been doing, it’s more serious than assault, they’re not gonna go easy on me this time.” 

“Dude, you know you don’t have to go through with this plan if you don’t wanna, no one’s gonna think any less of you, we’ll think of another plan! There’s gotta be another way to-” 

“There isn’t another way.” Ren suddenly stood back up, tears fading into his cheeks as he tried his damned hardest to stop crying, not in front of his friend, no way. “We would have thought of it if there was.” 

Ryuji hated hearing this, hearing the hopelessness in a voice that was normally so composed “Then somebody else-” 

“ No. ” Ren’s voice choked as the word left his mouth with rough indignation. He coughed, turning to face the other wall as he paced away. “...no. You all trusted me to be the leader, so it must be me. I can’t ask anyone else to do this. It wouldn’t be fair.” 

“ This isn’t fair! You sacrificing yourself for us, you’re not as strong as you think, man! We’re all just kids!” It was Ryuji’s turn to stand up, following Ren and placing a hand on his shoulder “Remember the rules? Our plans have to be unanimous, or we don’t go through it. You might still think we can go through with this, but I-” 

Ren shook Ryuji’s hand away, pushing up his glasses coldly. 

“We already voted. It’s decided.” Ryuji didn’t know when to quit, but Ren sure did, grabbing a black Shujin blazer from the table and throwing it towards Ryuji’s chest, where he caught it in a ball, struggling to find the words to say. There must be something he could say to change the wild card’s mind. “Besides, Futaba’s putting the app on my phone as we speak.” 

Or... not. 

“You forgot this, right? You better hurry, the last train leaves soon.” The light of the old halogen bulbs hanging from the attic ceiling glinted against the fog of Ren’s glasses, standing firm on the other side of the room.

“...we’re not done talking about this, Ren.” 

Ryuji hated to leave, but it was like arguing with that giant glowing wall waiting deep in Mementos; a waste of effort and energy. 

“Yes, we are.” 

--- 

“A team this large would be discovered immediately... we’d best split up for our escape. Although, we’ll need someone to act as our decoy. ...No, that’s too dangerous.” 

Queen was right on script. Her acting sure wasn’t flawless, but the nerves were real enough to sell it. Joker knew that was his cue, he gritted his teeth with a quiet, suave coolness, hands in his pockets, and... 

“I’ll do it.”  

...for once in his life, Joker seemed genuinely surprised. His words had been taken clean out of his mouth, as Skull stepped forward, wearing a seriousness that many of the group had never seen him embrace. Suddenly, the group was no longer acting. 

“S-Skull, that’s not- I mean, you can’t! You’ll get caught immediately!” Panther retorted back, looking between the others like she was missing something, had she misunderstood the plan? But Skull was already walking forward, grabbing the briefcase without a care in the world. 

“Are you forgetting? I’m the star of the track team; I’d like to see them try and catch me!” But suddenly, Skull felt a harsh grip on his arm, as a red glove squeezed it tight. He should have known Joker wouldn’t let him pull this stunt so easily. 

“I’m not gonna let you-” 

“Dude, I know I can take my fair share of beatings. I’ve got this” Skull hissed into Joker’s ear. “Besides, if something happens, they’ll need you way more than you need me.”  

It was Skull’s turn to have his mind made up and not take no for an answer. He stared at the group around him- glorious bastards, the lot of them, but he knew if he stuck around to hear their protests, it would be too late, Joker would snatch the briefcase and run, Panther would blow their cover with her infamous ‘acting’ skills...  

“Just go! I’ll see you guys real soon, okay? Go!” 

And without waiting for any more protests, or arguments, or insistence that he didn’t have what it takes to pull it off as smoothly as Joker... Skull fled. His style was messy, loud, hardly the stealthiest in the world. But wasn’t that the point, to draw as much attention as possible? He was born for this role! 

Besides, he was at least stealthy enough to swipe the phone from Joker’s pocket. The group may forget it from time to time, but it was a fact. Skull was a Phantom Thief, through and through. 

And in here, running from Shadows, causing chaos? He’d never felt so glad to be left behind.

Chapter Text

Ryuji Sakamoto was dead, in the end. There was no doubt about that. It was confirmed by the detective at the scene, the coroner, they had all confirmed it. Ryuji Sakamoto was as dead as if his heart had been taken right out of his chest; stolen. 

Of course, the true cause of death was a bullet to the head, self-inflicted in a desperate murder-suicide, but whether it was a stolen heart or a stolen gun that dealt the final blow, the guard and the Leader of The Phantom Thieves were as dead as can be. 

The security camera in this below ground level interrogation room didn’t work. The little red light always blinked, but that was simply for display. The higher-ups had bigger problems than to concern themselves with footage linking, no, it was best to keep what happens in these rooms exactly that; in this room. Besides, what reason would their top interrogators, best prosecutors, junior detectives and esteemed guards have to lie?  

So that was that. Ryuji Sakamoto was dead. After refusing to implicate any member of his team but allowing District Prosecutor Sae Nijima to investigate his cell phone, Goro Akechi had insisted on a follow-up interview, wanting to confirm one final detail about the group’s methods. Once inside, the rebellious delinquent with a short fuse had grown enraged, all but throwing a temper tantrum as he realised how few options he had left, now that the Detective Prince was on the case. In his predictable outburst, he’d gotten hold of a guard’s gun, shot him dead without a second thought, and upon realising there was just one bullet left... Allowed the secrets of the mental shutdowns to die with him. 

The story was so predictable. That boy had always been prone to violence, just like his deadbeat excuse of a father, this was clearly the only way for the story to end. 

--- 

November 20th was a foggy day, slow for business. LeBlanc was never a bustling hotspot, but it seems the shifting change to hard-blown winter was enough to keep even the usual gaggle of customers drinking their instant coffee at home instead. Not that Sojiro really minded, his thoughts were elsewhere today. He sat at his usual stool, pretending to figure out the answer to 7 Across.  

“Six letters... ‘The purpose of being beneath a mask’....” The older man pondered aloud, eyes shifting to the boy in the corner, who was busy washing dishes. He hadn’t even had to ask, it was like the boy had read his mind, coming downstairs and immediately getting to work. Even if he’d been scrubbing the same pot for the past 3 minutes, listening as the TV went on and on about the captured Leader of The Phantom Thieves. 

Sojiro had questions. Ren knew that Sojiro had questions. But Sojiro didn’t know how to ask, and Ren didn’t want to answer. 

“...Any ideas? I’m stumped.” His attempts to breach the awkward silence were painfully obvious, but all he got back in response was the continued sound of scrubbing and running water. “Oh, for crying out loud, boy, stop scrubbing that pot, you’ll ruin the coating!” 

Ren mumbled a few careless apologies, before putting the pot to the side, wiping at the fog in his glasses, and grabbing a mug, no intention of stopping. As he worked, his eyes stayed glued to the TV. 

“... We have also received information that the culprit was at risk of being suspended from his high school, after a violent altercation with a teacher...”  

The reporters on the TV droned on, trying to connect the scraps of information they had into a somewhat credible story. But it was all old news- tabloid rumours that held no real weight. Still, Ren couldn’t stop watching. He just had to keep his hands busy. 

“...Listen.” Sojiro spoke up again, placing his crossword to the side and rubbing the bridge between his eyebrows. Nobody prepares you for trying to talk about the hard stuff with a teenage boy, let alone... this level of hard stuff. “I’m sure however it went down, you’re not proud. I won't ask for the details, I’m sure it’s better I don’t know in a case like this. But I... I just want to thank you, for getting Futaba out of there, and for, uh... for following my advice, and running away. It would reflect badly on me if I let you get arrested at this stage of your probation, is all.”  

Ren spoke Sojiro’s language. This was his way of showing his relief. But still, they didn’t do much to fill the hollow gap in Ren’s stomach. Sojiro had even made his signature curry earlier, but he hadn’t eaten more than two bites, and neither had Futaba, before she’d hurried back to the house, once again with Morgana in tow. 

“...It was more like Futaba was the one who got us out, but-” 

“We have breaking news. The young man who was being held in custody has committed suicide. The police have confirmed his death-”  

Sojiro’s biro clattered to the ground, as the pair stared at the TV in a silence tantamount to raw shock. The one time he was listening to the news and this was what was being reported. He didn’t know much about the group of friends that his ward had been collecting over the past months, but it was pretty clear which one had ended up being scapegoat. The one who was so cocky to try his coffee and had been surprised by just how weak his own tastebuds really were but still made a point to try and compliment his brew, despite the bitterness.  

At first the older man had dismissed him as the exact type of wrong crowd that he had hoped the troublesome kid he’d taken in would avoid, but he’d let himself be proven wrong. It takes a unique kind of person to take a chance on a boy like Ren. He was a good kid all things considered, and now...  

God, Ren right now must be feeling... 

The devious smile across Ren’s face felt so out of place was something out of a horror movie, given the circumstances. What the hell kind of kid can even begin to smile in the time of news like this? 

“....We got him .” 

Sojiro’s heart was pounding, way too fast for a man of his age, it was hard to keep a composed tone of voice as the doorbell jingled. Really, a customer, now of all times? 

“We’re closed!” He yelled out without his usual indignation. Never mind about customer service when a kid is dead. 

“The sign says open-” The customers’ voice was feminine, with a familiar sternness. Must be a regular, but still- 

“I said we’re clos- ” And as Sojiro turned around, he saw the one thing in the world that could have made him more dumfounded than he already was. 

That nosey prosecutor who was way too interested in Wakaba, willing to use a vulnerable young girl as leverage in her pursuit of a case. But even more surprisingly was what was resting on her shoulder. 

Ryuji Sakamoto, so bruised and crumpled that for a moment it didn’t even register that the body could be anything other than dead- until the body laughed, that is. 

“Damn, boss, I thought your shop was always open for us...!” The boy laughed weakly, a heavy limp in his step as he pulled away from the prosecutor’s grip, desperate to sit down in one of the comfortable brown sofa booths, take the weight off of his leg.  

“Wh-what’s the meaning this this?” Sojiro spluttered, not even sure who to expect answers from. The prosecutor already making excuses to get out of there as quickly as possible, Ren already sitting down next to Ryuji with concerned look- that devilish smile from earlier gone now that he was confronted with the reality... And the reality itself; the man of the hour, Ryuji Sakamoto, bleeding and bruised, barely coherent and seemingly in a daze as he tried to stay awake. 

“We need to hide him here, just for a few days.” The caretakerly instincts were already kicking in, about ready to scold Ren for his forward demands, if not for the heart attack he was surely on the brink on, but the wheezes of a boy trying to laugh with broken ribs was enough to make him rethink his priorities, if only for now. 

“...Take him upstairs, I’ll close the shop. Oh, and there's a first aid kit in the bathroom, use it.” 

Ren hummed an affirmation, wrapping the dead boy’s arm across his shoulders and begin the slow trek of leading the boy upstairs. Ironically, the first thought that came to Sojiro’s mind, seeing the pair struggle as Ryuji tried and failed to repeatedly put pressure down on his leg was ‘dead weight’. But clearly, somehow, Ryuji Sakamoto was not as dead as the world believed. 

“Oh, Sojiro?” Ren paused for a moment as he reached the third stair, watching as Sojiro grabbed the keys from under the counter. 

“The word you’re looking for is ‘facade’.” 

Chapter Text

“You surprised me back there; I never took you to be the heroic type.” The Junior Detective chuckled, readjusting the silencer as he shifted targets.

Ryuji Sakamoto sat there, silent, defiant.

“I’m sure this comes as quite a surprise to you, too. If the others couldn’t figure it out, then you…”

Ryuji Sakamoto didn’t move a muscle.

“Ah well, they’ll be joining you soon enough.”

The barrel of the gun pressed against Ryuji’s forehead. Ryuji Sakamoto didn’t even flinch.

“…Case closed; this is how your justice ends.”

---

A stack of crates, a paper-thin mattress and a single top-sheet weren’t exactly the most comfortable sleeping arrangements, especially with the creaking attic’s inability to keep out the cold November air. It was cold and still somehow stuffy, and every bone in Ryuji’s battered body ached- in some places more than others. Back pain was one of the few things he’d somehow managed to avoid, and now he feared that was gonna be a problem too.

But still, the presence of anything soft to lie down on was a welcome necessity.

Everything was still hazy; the details of his escape weren’t the clearest. He vaguely remembered the taxi ride, his head resting against the blackened windows as Sae assured him with words going in one ear and out the other that they were ‘nearly there’. Whatever the hell kind of blacklisted drugs they’d shot into him had done their job and then some, hadn’t they? It must have been at least two days, right? Why did everything still feel so distant? He needed answers. With one last moment to rest his head into the cold side of the pillow, Ryuji forced himself upright. At first sitting, and then standing-

Nope, not standing. Definitely not standing. It was hard for the boy he’d never exactly been the quietest member of the Phantom Thieves not to scream.

“OW- FRICKIN’ HELL!”

Scratch that, it was impossible not to scream. As the cry of pain escaped his lips, sending him sitting back down again, he became vaguely aware that it was the middle of the day. Boss probably has customers downstairs. Shit, and here he was driving them away. Although... what did the older man expect, harbouring a loudmouthed fugitive like him?

And even with all that in mind, it was hard for Ryuji to focus on the guilt, he was just too... dizzy. When the greyish-black blob appeared from where he guessed the staircase might be, the only clue to help him figure out that it was Ren- not the men in suits coming back for him- was the twinge of light bouncing from his glasses.

“Shit, sorry man, didn’t mean to freak out the customers, just moved something I probably shouldn’t have.” He wheezed with a lax smile, gingerly adjusting his position. There must be some kind of sweet spot, some way of sitting upright that didn’t hurt. He hadn’t found it yet, but he’s got to find it eventually, right?

“The café’s closed.” The grey blur responded in a low voice, shaking his head as he approached the bed.

“Damn, for real? Didn’t have to go doing all that for this kind of shit. I’ll be fine.”

“Better to be safe, you’re gonna have to stay here for a while, we can’t risk you going home, it’ll be the first place they check when they realise you’re not dead.”

“…crap.” How could he not have thought of this sooner? “My mom, how is she? Does she-“

“No, they didn’t release your name on TV. Something about you being a minor. Nijima-San made sure of it. Oh, and Futaba’s been texting her as you. She thinks you’re helping Yusuke work on a project. Turns out you’re easy to mimic.”

Ryuji breathed a sigh of relief, although he dreaded to think what kind of ‘project’ Futaba had been fabricating on his behalf.

“Damn... so it’s all good, now, right? That bastard really thought he got me, but here I am!”

But Ryuji’s beginnings of a victory speech were returned by an odd silence. Oh well, he’s probably just daydreaming. Ren tends to do that a lot, staring off into space between palaces, gathering his thoughts… not the oddest trait for someone in their group to have, but it was definitely up there.

“Either way, when I’m all patched up, we should go get ramen or somethin’, right? Right? We deserve a victory feast or something, like usual!”

….Still nothing, huh?

“C’mon man, are you even listenin’ to me? Everything worked out great-“

“Idiot.”

It wasn’t uncommon for Ryuji to be on the receiving end of that word. He thought he’d grown used to it. And yet hearing it right now... that was the most it had ever stung.

“….wait, dude, you’re not upset that I took your place, right?”

“You could have been killed.” The delinquent couldn’t believe what he was hearing. If his vision hadn’t started to regain its focus, he might have even convinced himself that it wasn’t actually Ren he was talking to. But it was, almost clear as day, he could make out the details of his best friend’s face, which was when the anger finally registered for him.

“Wh- so could you, dumbass?! You’re the one who was crying about it, you were still shaking back in the casino, too! Don’t pretend you weren’t, I could see it! You were scared, I wasn’t, so what’s the big deal?!” Ryuji was glad the café was closed, he could feel his voice raising in volume, but he didn’t feel the urge to stop it.

“And you thought taking my place would make me less scared? That’s idiotic, even for you!” It was rare that Ryuji had heard his best friend raise his voice like this. But the only thing left to do was match it.

“Dude, come on! It’s not like it matters. I still pulled it off, right? I gave Sae the phone, I didn’t sell anyone out, and I’m alive! No farm, no foul, right?”

“Harm. Ryuji. It’s ‘no harm, no foul.”

“Nuh-uh! You can’t have chickens without a farm, right? It’s definitely farm!”

“…Whatever.”

“No, man, not ‘whatever’! You don’t get to go calling me an idiot and then just drop it like that. If you’ve got something to say, just say it! I can take it, I can take a lot more than you clearly think I can! You think what happened back there is anything worse than I’ve already felt before?!”

“…Stand up.” Ren’s voice dropped back to its usual pitch, genuinely surprising Ryuji, who stayed where he was, sat on the plastic crate bed.

“Huh?”

“I said… stand up.” Firmer, this time. And now Ryuji could see that his glasses were fogged up. Probably just the cold November mist, right? This attic’s drafty enough that that can happen, right?

“…Nah, don’t feel like it.”

“Because your leg’s broken?”

“What- n-no! Of course not-!“

“Then stand up.”

Fine, Ren wants him to stand up? Fine. He’ll stand up! Muttering a few indignant curses at the friend stood before him, Ryuji put both hands behind his back, pressing down against the bed to force himself up. He’s just got a case of jelly-legs, it’s not like he’s hand to stand at all in the past few days, Ren’s just trying to prove a point, he’s fine!

“…”

“…You’re in pain.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re about to cry.”

“Hell no.”

“You’re gonna fall over.”

“...Yep.”

Shaking, Ryuji began to tip forward, caught in Ren’s arm as he refused to look anywhere but the ground. Focusing on the wooden floorboards was enough to keep him from screaming. Slowly, he was directed back to the bed, sweating buckets through his yellow T-shirt. God, how long had he been sweating like this? There’s no way just that one attempt at putting weight on his leg was enough to get him this exhausted, was it?

“…You shouldn’t have done it, Ryuji. You’re not as tough as you think you are.”

“Yeah, well neither are you! It’s not like it would have been any better if you’d gone, right? Instead, you’d be the one with broken ribs instead of me!” Ryuji didn’t have the energy to argue, but it sure seemed to be the only thing he’d been doing the past few days… he was getting better at it, he thought.

“You have broken ribs?”

“…Nah.”

Ren shook his head. Seems he was all argued out, why else would he be turning to leave.

“Maybe we should have let the cat take the fall, right, Leader?”

“Hey, I am NOT a cat!” The voice popped out of nowhere, sending a jolt through Ryuji’s body that he was definitely not equipped for right now.

“Jesus! Are you tryin’ to kill me?!” The cat jumped down from the windowsill, flexing his chest in that cocky way of his as he sat proudly at the edge of the bed.

“Damn, I’m surprised you can still talk like that after what happened, Ryuji. You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that.” Morgana’s head turned away, maybe so Ryuji couldn’t see him smiling

“Why’d you come here now of all times? I thought you’d be helping Futaba or somethin’”

“I could hear you two bozos arguing from the street! At this rate they’re gonna figure out you’re dead in one, two days tops! When are you gonna learn to be quiet?”

“Says the talking cat.”

“I’m NOT-“

“-‘not a cat’. I know, frickin’ hell, you don’t have to say it every time, y’know.”

Back to arguing again, it seems.

“I’m going out. Mind watching him, Morgana? Make sure he doesn’t do something stupid. ….Again.”

“Sure thing, leader.” The black cat purred, smirking at Ryuji with the power of a little sibling who’s just been put in charge. If Ryuji wasn’t already trying to fight the room spinning in all directions, he might have rolled his eyes.

With that final comment, Ren took off down the stairs in a huff, clearly fed up with dealing with what he saw as a ‘mistake’.

Damn, and people call HIM stubborn.

“…I’m glad you made it out, Ryuji. You still haven’t made good on our deal, y’know.”

“….Good to see you too, Morgana.”

Chapter Text

The attic was quiet; Ryuji resigned to lying back down on the bed. He’d been down this road before, he knew not to push himself too hard, even if he was fine. Morgana sat on the far corner of the bed, licking himself clean.  

“...Man, do you have to do that right now?” Ryuji groaned, grabbing the pillow from behind his head and tossing it lightly at the not-a-cat, who barely managed to dodge it with a small leap, landing on the panelled floor. Having his head at an angle was making his neck hurt anyway.  

“Not that you’d know much about it, but a true rogue needs to keep up appearances.” Morgana stuck out his tongue, hopping up unto the nearby work desk, hopefully now out of pillow range. “Although... that bruise on your cheek really completes the whole ‘delinquent’ look you’ve been going for.”  

“Aw shut it!” The boy retaliated with his usual annoyance, beginning to sit up again, slowly. Not because he was in an awful amount of pain, not at all. It had just been a long few days, and he wanted to kick back and relax. He watched Morgana fiddle with a few things on the desk, crawling over pieces of tin and clasps and an old-looking laptop, particles of dust scattering as he scoured through the organised chaos, feeling the eyes of the blond kid watching his every move.  

“You know, you’re not fooling anyone, you got your butt kicked pretty bad back there, there’s no way you’re not feeling it.” Morgana mewed, still with that cocky attitude, but just a tiny bit more serious as he leapt back from the desk onto the bed, with an unfortunately misjudged landing.  

“OW- geez, watch it!”  

Morgana leapt backwards off the boy’s leg. The pair of them had never been the most tight-knit members of the group, but anyone would feel bad seeing Ryuji try his best to swallow the pain.  

“Sorry, it’s dark! I thought your leg was just more blanket!”  

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong!” He hissed, sitting fully upright with a grunt, grabbing onto his thigh tenderly and checking for damages.  

“...I thought you told Ren that your leg wasn’t broken.” Morgana already knew that Ryuji was full of shit but calling him out on it might be the entryway he needs.  

“I- Well, yeah! Cuz it isn’t, it’s just... y’know, sore and shit! Doesn’t mean it’s broken again. Remember? This isn’t the first time some asshole’s tried that shit with me, it’s not even the second! I’m pretty sure I’d know if it was broken.”  

“...Whatever you say, Ryuji. Buuut .. If you don’t wanna feel ‘sore’, take some of these. Oh, and don’t tell Ren I know where he keeps his stash.” Morgana cosied on up against the side of Ryuji’s other leg, dropping a couple tablets onto his lap, wrapped in a suspicious, unbranded packaging, just like the one’s Ren pulls out in battle in case of emergencies. Ryuji chuckled at the site, before doing as he was told. They weren’t working as fast as they would in the palaces, where the cognition surrounding them made them feel like all-powerful miracle elixirs, in fact... He wasn’t feeling much of anything yet. Still, better than nothing, he supposed.  

“...Thanks.”  

“Good, now that you’ve gotten over yourself and taken your meds, we can actually talk.”  

“Huh, about what?”  

“What do you think?! Of course I’m referring to your stunt! Running off on your own, where the hell did you learn that move?!”  

“Where do you think? I was just copying you.” The boy shrugged, folding his arms, proud of his answer.  

“That’s-” The cat was taken aback for a moment, but shook his head, refusing to be taken off-topic. “That’s not the point, what you pulled back there was ridiculous, you could have gotten us all caught or even gotten yourself killed! For what, so you could prove yourself?”  

“Great, now I gotta hear this crap from you, too? You know Ren already gave me hell for it, right? Besides, it’s not like anyone really cares about what happens to me, don’t go pretending now!”  

Ryuji was surprised by the silence from the cat, for once it had no comebacks, no changing topics... but no denial either, it seems. That was the only unsurprising part, of course.  

“Look, Ren’s the leader, if shit went south, he’s too valuable to waste. Nobody uses the king as bait, right? I’m a little more expendable, you can’t deny it!”  

“...You know chess?”  

“I know some stuff, man, alright? Why does everyone think that I don’t think things through? Obviously, I had my reasons for putting my ass on the line!” Ryuji was getting irritated, he wished he had another pillow. He needed to scream into something.  

“Fine, then what’s the reason? And don’t pretend that you were just trying to protect Ren, cuz we both know he can handle himself.”  

“Can he?” Ryuji’s voice was low, staring at the black cat with a tired glare. “Last I checked I was the one who had to summon my persona to save you guys. I’m surprised you’re so clueless, considering how strongly you cling on to him.”  

Morgana tilted his head 90 degrees, electric blue eyes narrowing. “...What do you mean?”  

“...just forget it, man, it ain’t my place.” Ryuji was pissed, sure, but he already knew he’d crossed a line. Ren had kept his feelings to himself for a reason, he wasn’t gonna cross that line, no matter how pissed off he felt.  

“No, Ryuji, what do you mean? You saw him take on all those shadows in the casino by himself, we both know he was the best pick to go it alone!”  

“Yeah, he can fight like hell, but he’s not-” Ryuji bit his tongue, trying to force himself to shut up, but he just... couldn’t. “...So, what you’re saying is that he could have totally handled himself in that interrogation room, surrounded by cops, trying their absolute best to make him take the fall for shit he wasn’t responsible for? Again ? Beating him until he agrees to sign his name, threatening to take his limbs until he agrees? Is that what you want?”  

“I... didn’t think of it that way.”  

“Psh, yeah, clearly. No one did! Don’t pretend you’re not secretly relieved that it was me down there.”  

Ryuji’s words were harsh, and they lingered in the attic air like dust, as the pair stewed.  

“...You keep saying that, Ryuji... Do you really think none of us were worried?”  

“So, what if I do?”  

“Man, you really are a moron, then.”  

Morgana thanked his lucky stars that Ryuji was too beaten to chase him, despite the string of insults being hurled his way. He skirted to the other edge of the room, far out of his grasp, ruffling through a schoolbag hidden in the corner under a pile of old dustsheets, until he finally found what he was looking for. It was a struggle without opposable thumbs, but eventually he got a good grip on the device, carrying it back and dropping it onto Ryuji’s chest.”  

“People care about you more than you think, idiot.” Morgana purred, as Ryuji picked up the device. It as his phone. His real phone, not the decoy with the listening device. In all the chaos he’d forgotten he swapped it out.  

Damn, that’s a lot of notifications. Probably just the group chat, though.  

“What, couldn’t be bothered to charge it while I was gone? Damn, even for a cat you’re pretty useless, y’know.”  

The two sat in silence for a moment, wordlessly deciding to leave it at that, as Ryuji gingerly lay himself back down once again, resolving himself to catch up on what he missed. But suddenly, he was surprised by the warm weight leaping onto his chest.  

“Wh-what are you doing?!” Morgana was on his chest, slowly curling up into a ball, yawning with satisfaction.  

“It’s November, and you’re hijacking Ren’s bed, I gotta stay warm somehow, so you’ll have to do as a replacement until you give him his bed back, alright?”  

“...Jeez, fine! But if I wake up and my chest is covered in claw marks, you’ll regret it.”  

“Deal.”  

Ryuji stared at his phone, feeling the warmth of the cat’s head resting against his weary, but still-beating, heart. He hated to admit it, but Morgana might have a calling as a therapy pet, if he ever learns to shut up, that is.  

He opened the group chat, the mass of unread messages flooding his screen. Ryuji prepared himself for the expected. Message upon message about how he’s gonna mess up the plan, how he’s gonna forget some crucial detail and get everyone killed, he knew they didn’t expect much of him. Why would they? He was just a bull-headed delinquent who went with the punches.  

---

Ryuji paused his scrolling, brow furrowed, confused.  

He wasn’t expecting any of this.  

“...Hey, Morgana?”  

The cat didn’t move, other than to raise an ear.  

“...Thanks. For showing me this, I mean. That’s uh... That's all I wanna say.”  

“You’re a crucial member of the team, Ryuji, whether you think so or not.”  

If it weren’t so dark, Morgana might have caught the tears in Ryuji’s eyes, which he refused to let fall.  

It’s not like he was getting emotional or anything, he was just... sore.  

Chapter Text

Finally, the medicine was beginning to make Ryuji feel numb. Or… numb-ish. He still couldn’t pretend that he was as fine as he wanted to be, but at least now he could begin to sit upright for longer than ten minutes without having to take the pressure off his lap. At least now he didn’t feel like there were two giant drill-bits pressed against the sides of his temple every time the sound of drunken idiots annoyed that they’d missed the last train home outside the window got a little too loud. But noise aside, pain or lack thereof aside, purring sleeping cat aside… Ryuji still couldn’t sleep. 

It was a long night, as November the 21st became November the 22nd. What a long day it had been, huh? 

Ryuji tossed back and forth, switching between trying to stare at the ceiling until morning came or he finally dozed off- whichever came first- and checking his phone, reading the messages that had been sent in his absence. 

“All according to plan, guys, we got him, you can stop worrying!”  

The message was typed out, but… he hadn’t sent it. Maybe he should, but would it be better to save that all for tomorrow? It’s the sort of thing that works better face to face, instead of a random message at 4 o’clock in the morning that tells only about a sixth of the story… 

That’s definitely why he wasn’t sending it. 

4 o’clock became 5 o’clock became 6, and eventually it was 7 o’clock in the morning. Ryuji was regretting his inability to fall asleep, with the sun coming in through the window making him want nothing more to be back in the dark with his thoughts, as if it wasn’t half an hour ago that he couldn’t wait for the long night to be over.  

What a damn pain this all was. And to make matters worse, he was starving. That half of a supermarket fruit sandwich Sae had forced him to eat in the back seat of the taxi was neither his favourite nor enough to keep him full all the way into the next morning. When your mouth tastes like blood, something sweet just won’t cut it. 

Ryuji wanted ramen. His mind wandered to the outlet market between the café and the station, surely, they’ve gotta have some instant cups or something, right? Not as good as the real deal, but Ryuji wasn’t picky.  

Nobody would notice if he was gone for five minutes, right?  

Morgana was still sound asleep, continuing to prove that cats can and do snore. And his leg wasn’t great... but it was numb. Numb enough to get him 20 metres down the street and back, right? 

With a quiet indignation, Ryuji steeled himself. Planning it in his head. Bed to the stairs. Stairs to the front door. Front door to the supermarket. Then do it again in reverse. Easy. Probably good, even! Good to stretch himself out, instead of letting the problem lie, literally in this case. 

Bed to the stairs… take your time… 

“What the hell are you doing , kid?” 

Ryuji was actually glad at the sudden obstacle in his path, stopping him from attempting his first step down the stairs. This had been an awful mistake. He was dehydrated, dizzy, weak in every single muscle in his body. But that didn’t mean he was gonna just lie down and say thank you. He was gonna sit down instead. 

Besides, who needs ramen when Sojiro Sakura is bringing you curry for breakfast? 

“Are you trying to get caught? I knew you kids were reckless, but I didn’t take you for morons.” 

Sojiro leant up against the shelf of cardboard boxes and various grey shirts, glasses resting on the low bridge of his nose, it almost looked like he hadn’t slept. But Ryuji tried to pay it no mind, digging into his breakfast curry. 

“Eh, you’d be surprised.”  

“Probably not at this point, jeez… what kind of kid decides to just fake their own death? Still, you pulled it off well enough, from what I hear, so I guess you’re not all complete idiots.” 

“…Did he tell you the plan?”  

“Bits and pieces. He’s staying on my couch for the next few nights, so this room’s all yours as long as you need it. Damn kid sleeps like he’s in another world, snores like it too. Futaba aside, I made the right call keeping him here, I can’t sleep a wink with that noise.” He finished with a smirk, Ryuji unable to hide his chuckle at the thought of the fearless leader sleeping like a foghorn. Master of stealth until it’s time for a nap, right? 

“…Sorry you’re having to put up with this, Boss. I bet we’re a real pain in the ass with all this.” 

“Yeah, you are.” The bluntness wasn’t a surprise, but still, ouch. “Come on, eat up. I’m not opening the shop today, but there’s still stuff I gotta do before the rest of your friends get here.” 

“Right, sorry Boss.” Ryuji kept eating, if anything a little too fast. It was odd, he had an empty stomach and yet the more he tried to fill it up, the worse he felt. He was getting his energy back, that was for damn sure, LeBlanc curry seemed to have that effect, but exhaustion was the only thing that had been stopping him from throwing his guts up until this point. 

“…I never asked before, figured it was none of my business. But that teacher that was on the news… if he was you guys’ first target with all this then…” 

The blond looked up, face paler than ever but glad for the distraction. Even if was about that old bastard. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“…It’s normally not my business, but I guess if I’m taking care of you for the time being and all, I should try to learn the facts a bit. Didn’t really try to get involved with Ren before and, well... look what a mess I’ve been left with now.” 

That’s right. Sojiro was now technically a criminal just by association.  

“Yeah, we should probably apologise for this mess, right? Harbouring a fugitive is probably no joke in a case like this.” 

…That was the first time Ryuji had used that word to describe himself. ‘Fugitive’. It would almost make him feel pretty damn cool, if the trade-off wasn’t what felt like broken bones, that is. 

“Look, what I’m trying to ask is, I suppose... was he making life hard for you too, or were you just a witness?” 

Even Ryuji could tell that Sojiro was beating around the bush here, but still, the question itself surprised him. 

“’Making life hard’?” Ryuji couldn’t help but scoff, tilting his head back to look at the dusty old rafters. “You can just ask if he beat the shit out of me, you don’t gotta dance around it.” 

“Fine. Did he beat the shit out of you?” 

“Yeah. The school totally covered it up, though. Didn’t want the headache of a fight between a kid and their ‘star teacher’ ending up in the tabloids. God forbid Shujin ends up on the news. Still, I nearly got kicked out of school over it, should have seen my ma’s face. I couldn’t tell what had upset her more, losing out on my chance at a track scholarship, or the idea that her son was becoming more like her husband. Worst part is, I kinda brought it on myself, taking the bait and giving him the excuse he needed to beat the crap out of me, but hey, what else is new? I’m always asking for it.” 

Ryuji’s voice bit, clearly not as over it as he wanted to seem. It was easier pretending not to give a shit when he wasn’t tired, hungry and beaten to hell and back, not that it mattered. The older gentleman had been in the service industry long enough to tell when a customer was upset, and he’d worked in the government long enough to know when he was being bullshitted. He removed his reading glasses, wiping the sweat from his brow with his weathered wrist, processing, before sighing 

“Jeez, I’m sorry kid. Every time I start to think the world aint so bad, there’s suddenly another kid on my plate who thinks that everything unfair that happens in life is somehow their fault. Guess I’m three for three now. But if you’re looking for advice from an older man with more experience, then try not to blame yourself for everything that comes your way. Life’s too long to take everything on your own shoulders.” 

“Can you try telling Ren that? Dude was nearly about to pull this stunt himself! What, like having assault on his criminal record already isn’t enough, he’s gotta add terrorism too?” 

Remembering Ren’s less-than-thankful response was enough to get him heated again. It wasn’t like he wanted or expected to be praised as a hero after his recklessness but a simple ‘thank you’ never hurt anyone! 

But... maybe he shouldn’t have said that part out loud. At least not in the vicinity of the Boss, who looked like he was about to have a heart attack, or burst a blood vessel, or probably both. 

“He what ?” As if having a criminal record wasn’t enough, like founding the Phantom Thieves of Hearts wasn’t  enough, like dragging Futaba into joining the Phantom Thieves with the promise of digging into Wakaba’s death wasn’t stupid and reckless and ill-advised enough, now Ryuji was telling him that this troublesome boy he’d taken in nearly a year ago with the potential to become a damn-good barista was on the verge of giving himself up in an insane gamble? “When I get my hands on that boy....”  

Sojiro’s voice was low, hands shaking as he imagined with a mix of fear, rage and straight-up exhaustion as the possibility of it all going wrong all came flooding into his mind all at once, but with a small side-glance he saw Ryuji lean away, resting his body against the wall, under the guise of being tired, and not cowering away. The Phantom Thief known as Skull would never cower away from anyone, let alone an older man with a cocked fist, full of something resembling full of paternal rage. The slightest twinge of familiar fear in the boy’s eyes was enough to lower Sojiro’s stressed fist, replacing it with a palm that patted Ryuji’s bruised shoulder reassuringly, an unfamiliar but not unwelcome feeling. A guy like Sojiro showing a delinquent like him not just respect, but comfort?  

It had been a long time. 

“I guess that means I should be thanking you for stopping him from doing something utterly stupid. Even if meant you ended up doing something utterly stupid. These people you’ve been messing with don’t kid around, you’re lucky you weren’t more hurt.” He knew the last thing Ryuji probably wanted to hear right now was a lecture, but still, it wouldn’t feel right leaving this warning unsaid. 

“Yeah, I think I discovered that firsthand already Boss, maybe save the warning for rest of the team, yeah?” Ryuji chuckled, digging into the last couple mouthfuls of curry and rice, beginning to feel the awakening effects of spicy food for breakfast, letting the energy sink into his bones and muscles. It only made the aches more apparent, but still, it felt good to have some form of stamina running through his body again. 

“Eh, they’ll be joining us soon enough, so don’t worry, they’ll get the message loud and clear when they check in later.”  

But something in those words made Ryuji freeze. He hadn’t heard those words before, at least not in any way that mattered. They were just words, casual, no deeper meaning or intent or reason to stand out.  

And yet, Ryuji Sakamoto smelt driftwood and saltwater, a smell that shouldn't overpower the scent of coffee beans and spices that cloaked the small store from years of spills and fumes seeping into the old wooden floorboards, and yet the smell of the ocean air was as strong and intoxicating to Ryuji as it was awakening . And, just like the last time he’d smelt such an intoxicating salt, the voice of havoc within his heart became clear. 

“You have deceived the forces that sought to dampen your rebellion and sink your ship, colour me impressed, my boy. And yet, the treasure is still far from beyond your grasp.”  

A small part of Ryuji wondered if Sojiro was confused, watching him stare into space, lost in the reflection of the dirtied dish on his lap, staring back at himself, but the bigger part couldn’t think to do anything, anything at all, except listen to the voice. To hear Captain Kidd’s voice. 

“But we pirates are known to play dirty, and most of all, we never seek a treasure that doesn’t come with a map, so allow me to grant you this one, single clue. I implore you, listen closely, and pray that X marks the spot.”  

Ryuji blinked, sealing the deal, unable to put the pieces together. But the pieces Captain Kidd granted were hardly from the hardest jigsaw puzzle in the world, remnants of a moment lost to time, lost to the metaverse, but shadows retained the memory. The memory of a young ace detective smiling callously as he stared down at the idiot who took the fall for the fearless leader, oddly unmoving, unaware that his words were falling on deaf ears, and that he was shooting blanks into a creation of Sae’s unconscious mind. 

“You surprised me back there; I never took you to be the heroic type.”  

“I’m sure this comes as quite a surprise to you, too. If the others couldn’t figure it out, then you…”  

“Ah well, they’ll be joining you soon enough.”  

...And with those words lost to the void returned, the pieces clicked together. Ryuji hadn’t just thrown a spanner into the great machinations of Ren’s plan, he’d somehow blown up the whole factory, and the domino effect was about to fall into place. 

“...I was never the target.” 

“What are you talking about, boy? Careful, you’re gonna drop that plate if you’re not careful!” 

But Ryuji couldn’t care less about a plate, or the last bite of curry, or even the ache in his joints. 

“I’m saying I was never the damn target! I’m not the leader; I’m just collateral goddamn damage to a guy like Akechi! My death isn’t enough of a statement, that asshole wanted to kill the true leader, not some punk playing pretend! He-” 

... Fuck .