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andtheyreonfire · 1 year

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wake up where the clouds far behind

Ao3

Word Count: 7,025

An: less than hour left for g/t july in my timezone :) i had a lotta fun with this, hope you enjoy!

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

There’s a land I’ve heard of once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

Someday I wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

Really. It should be Mona, or maybe Ann, or even Akechi—as long as that asshole’s working with them, he might was well contribute. Him and Ren’ve always had a weird way of understanding each other. Ryuji’s head is too far up his ass for this to work. Ask anyone who knows him!

—But Ryuji’s here, because life is a bitch. And—they told him to just hand it to Ren directly but, fuck—

“Hey,” Ryuji says, jogging up the stairs. Every creak rings like a gunshot. “I got that magazine you wanted.”

Ren glances up from his homework to shoot him a confused look. If Mona was here, at least Ryuji’d have backup. Some insurance would be nice. But the cat’s with Ann and Futaba, no doubt poured over their supplies. Probably a bag of snacks, too. As it is, Ryuji’s entire plan consists of sticking his foot in his mouth and hoping he doesn’t choke on it.

“Magazine?” Ren rasps.

“Yeah.” Ryuji coughs, shuffles closer to Ren’s desk. It’s neat, organized; not a single scrap of paper is out of place. Completely free of any bits, pieces, or spare parts. Ryuji slides the issue of Sprint onto the desk, prays Ren won’t notice it’s from last week. “Remember? You wanted to see how that one arc of Death Beat ended. It’s pretty good, lemme tell you. Real kicker.”

He sounds like an NPC. This is the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. Ryuji coughs again. They ain’t even in flu season but—when’d it get so dusty in here? Ren gives him a sort of confused squint, before nodding and uttering a single, “Thanks.”

Ryuji waits for more, for Ren to the continue the conversation, for the perfect icebreaker to fall on his head, but nothing comes. For lack of a better plan, Ryuji claps his hand on Ren’s shoulder. His heart sinks at the flinch it earns him.

“Look, just—” Ryuji’s hands are cold, clammy, ready to grasp a weapon before anything else. “Just give it a look tonight, okay? If you have any thoughts, you can text me ‘em. I’m here for you.”

Ren shifts to look at him fully. His brow is furrowed. Something’s wrong, he’s realized, but—

He slumps down, nods, and turns back to his homework, muttering a quiet “okay” and a goodnight.

And—alright, Ryuji’s delivered his cargo. He can leave now. He should leave, now.

He hovers, examining Ren’s tired, languid posture, the uncaring haze over his eyes. He looks washed out, striking monochrome faded to dull grey. If Ryuji’d met him like this earlier, he never would’ve guessed that this boy was the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

“...G’night, bro,” Ryuji says, before turning on his heel and all but throwing himself down LeBlanc’s stairs.

He prays, prays, prays, to whatever god is up there, that Ren has the strength to at least read the ticket to his jailbreak.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

And way above the chimney tops

Is where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow

Bluebirds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why, then oh why, can’t I?

Red stains Ryuji’s shoes, his gloves, the bodies of 9 thieves, sprinting down what he could only wish was Mementos’ labyrinths.

It sure as fuck could be mistaken for that. The dungeon is as blood-red as the bowels of Mementos. Only—where maroon veins pulsed juts signs and warnings. Where concrete and rot crunched beneath their feet lies soft velvet. Where doorways and treasure and shadows arose are now jail cells, spanning to the ceiling and impossible to count. They all know which cell they’re looking for, anyways.

Queen leads the charge. None of them are as well-rounded as Ren, but they’d agreed she’d take the lead if something happened. They also agreed to try their damndest to prevent that situation from arising—but, well, life’s a bitch.

They’re forgoing stealth. It wouldn’t matter, anyways, with the klaxon alarms blaring in their ears. Path of least resistance is the fastest, after all. The ache of Ryuji’s leg is doing nothing to distract from the stress budding in his stomach.

The shadows in here were a hell of a ride, the Thieves found. They could range anywhere from a level 2 Pixie to a Fafnir the most busted moves known to man. Apparently, they originated from someplace called the Compendium, but no one’s been as successful as Joker was in weaseling info from them. Now, Queen calls to take wide angles to avoid them.

Finally, they reach the end, too stressed to take stock at the nearest Saferoom like they usually do. A massive, blood-red door spans before them. Oracle fishes out the key they acquired.

“I can sense R…the Treasure beyond that door,” Mona says. “No going back. Are we ready?”

A hum of affirmation. Queen steps forward. “As we’ll ever be, I suppose. Let’s do this.”

They enter the gate.

The inside is smaller, barely large enough for all nine of them to fit. Ryuji’s too busy trying to squeeze into the cell to notice the 10th member before them. It’s only when Violet lets out a sharp gasp that he looks up.

Before them, curled tight on an iron prison bed, is Ren. Ryuji freezes when sharp, yellow eyes snap up to meet them.

“You came.” Even in the tiny room, Ren’s voice echos. Palace rulers’—and it hurts, it hurts, to think about him that way, but that’s exactly what he is—voices are usually overlaid, but Ren’s is singular. Powerful, with the way it reverberates in their ears, but singular.

“Of course we did, dummy,” Oracle says, as if her body isn’t tensed to run.

Ryuji looks back on the group. A variety of expressions stare back at him. Fox and Noir wear matching faces of determination. Violet looks conflicted. Disgust paints Crow’s face. Queen looks unsure, eager to fight than for the inevitable conversation they’re about to have. Mona just looks sad.

Panther’s expression matches Ryuji’s own: he feels like he’s gonna throw up.

“I didn’t think you would…” Ren continues, shifting his head to rest on his knee. The striped, worn material flashing like a warning in the red light. “It’s quiet in here, y’know. There’s never been anything of note beneath the mask.”

They wait for more, but Shadow-Ren only stares into the wall. Queen clears her throat. “Ren…how did this happen? Why do you view yourself as a prisoner?”

Shadow Ren shrugs. “Because I am. Of fate, of my masks, of Japan’s silly little justice system. I’ve always been trapped. I always will be.” He folds into himself. “Nothing’s ever going to change.”

After a beat, he stands up. He doesn’t attack, doesn’t do anything but stare into them. “Our influence as Phantom Thieves is limited to the present moment. We’re a passing memory, a hapless trend.” His movements are sluggish, strained, but surprisingly lifelike for a shadow. “We can fight and struggle for that ‘perfect society’ all we want, and we’ll never obtain it. We’re just a bunch of kids playing dress-up. Our ‘justice’ has always been meaningless.”

“Our lives are testament to the opposite, Ren.” Noir says. “You’re a testament to the opposite. We have made change.”

He pins Noir with a yellow-eyed glower. It’s the most passion Ryuji’s seen on him since he started his monologue. Just as quickly, he deflates. “You know more than anyone, Haru, that it’s the system itself that allowed our targets to come into power. It’s the system that will allow others to take their place. Whatever we do will just as quickly be overwritten. Call it society, call it human nature. It’s a shitty cycle that’s made us its prisoners. Maruki had a point—”

Ryuji takes one look at Crow’s expression and blanches. Violet puts a hand up, stepping between them. “I don’t think it’s wise to finish that sentence, senpai.”

Shadow Ren shakes his head. “I wasn’t saying he was right. He opened my eyes, that’s all. He overhauled reality completely, and it worked. He abolished Japan’s free will, sure, but he came farther than we could ever dream to.”

“So what is the meaning of this palace’s distortion?” Fox tilts his head. “The Ren I knew would’ve done everything in his power to prove your words wrong. Surely you haven’t lost your rebel spirit completely?”

“I—” Shadow Ren hesitates, a million emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he settles on a blank mask, eyes just as dead as Futaba’s shadow. “I’m so tired. It’s exhausting, to fight day in and day out for a future we’ll never be able to achieve. It’s easier to close your eyes and drown it all out. You—can’t burn yourself out if you never try, right? It’s better to just stand down, and accept our fate.”

For a moment, no one speaks. Ryuji’s blood boils, pops. He swings an arm wide, ignoring Panther’s shout as she ducks under it. “Bullshit! You tellin’ me we shoulda just kept our heads down and let Kamoshida ruin our lives? You tellin’ me we shoulda just let Shido run over us with his big fuckin’ ship? You’re spewin’ the same piss the shadows in Mementos were!”

And Ryuji should—stop, probably. Let someone who knows how to diffuse a situation talk Ren’s shadow down, but—it’s something about seeing the person who made him who he is, who reached out his hand and asked are you going to sit there and take this? do just that. Ryuji can’t tell if it’s the palace or his own anger that’s staining his vision red. “I never would’ve expected this from you, man!”

He should stop, but Ren’s shadow is silent, peering at him with an oddly interested gaze. So, he doesn’t. “We defeated Maruki ‘cause he was a delusional asshole who, if you took away the savior complex, was just as bad as the other assholes we defeated. That’s it! Just—don’t you remember how we started?”

Ryuji has Shadow Ren’s full attention. “We formed because we wanted to take back power from king asshole. Society was the last thing on our minds. Then Madarame happened and Kaneshiro and Medjed and—you’re right. We were just kids playing dress-up. But then we—then you shot a god in the face. Twice. We’re not that way anymore. We’ve changed!”

“What’s your point?” Ren’s shadow snaps, and Ryuji kind of wants to hug him but also really wants to strangle him until he gets a clue.

“We have power, dude. We did change society! Even if no one realizes it, that just means we have a fuckton more time to prove it. Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all for not realizing the truth. But the Metaverse still exists, which means our time ain’t over yet. We can change this shit. You should know that, you’re the strongest out of any of us.”

“I…” Ren’s shadow looks confused. “I have power?”

“You do. Don’t think I didn’t see you summon some crazy-ass shit. You probably coulda defeated some of the later palace rulers on your own, or used the metaverse to your advantage at any time—”

“Ryuji,” Mona warns. Ryuji ignores him. He’s close, he can feel it, if the faint crackle of the air is anything to go by.

“C’mon, man.” Ryuji reaches out a hand. The shadow—fuck, he can’t think of him that way. This is Ren, even if he’s balls-deep in a subconscious prison—only stares at it, considering. “You’re bigger than this.”

Ren raises his hand.

Ryuji beams, body aching to move and give him the bro-hug he deserves, but Ren’s hand lingers. It ghosts across his thumb, before pushing it down, slow but firm. He can feel the chill through his gloves.

Ren shakes his head, giving a smile. William flares in the back of Ryuji’s mind. “You’re right. I am more than this. There’s so much more to—this. I guess I didn’t see it before.”

He blinks, languid, and when he opens his eyes they’re a pure, blazing gold. “Thank you for showing me the truth, Skull.”

Ryuji’s smile drops. “Wait, why’d you c—”

The air crackles, forcing itself into the tight, strained space. The pressure builds, swells. Ryuji can ozone and bitter syrup on his tongue. Whatever—this is, it’s building near Ren, inside of him.

All at once, it stops.

Oracle’s voice crackles in his ear, “Guys! Back the FUCK up--!”

The pressure explodes, a boom echoing across the tiny, enclosed room. Ryuji splays an arm across his face as he stumbles back. He tries to open his eyes, but all he sees is a sea of red dust.

An arm wraps around his waist and jerks him back, the familiar lurch of a grappling hook scrambling his insides. He coughs. It isn’t until he’s a good distance away that he catches sight of the red leotard holding him—Panther, of course—and Ren’s cell fading into the background.

Ryuji sways as Panther stops to set them on a ledge. He groans, clutching his head. “What—”

“We’ve triggered his boss fight!” Futaba’s tinny voice sounds in his ear. “He’s still transforming!”

Blearily, Ryuji registers a few other forms joining them on the ledge. He barely manages to get his feet under him when the world shakes, shifts, and—

The wall in front of Ryuji explodes, parting like a curtain, to reveal a giant, blood-red glove.

It’s taller than him. Just barely, but it seems to be growing. It’s reaching towards them, bits of rubble sliding off as it inches closer, closer, closer—

“Gorokichi!” Fox screams, and a physical attack crashes into the massive palm. The hand stops, long enough for Ryuji’s instincts to kick in and launch a grappling hook. He looks back just in time to see some thieves trailing behind him, and to see the hand wrapping around the ledge they escaped. It crumples like Styrofoam in its grasp.

“Mona!” Panther’s voice is high-pitched, winded, crackling beside Ryuji and in his ear. Ryuji shoots out another hook, a symphony of tumbling stone behind him. “What the hell is doing on!?”

“I don’t know!” Mona’s voice responds over the earpiece. He’s just as panicked as Ryuji feels, meaning he probably saw whatever—that was, too. “Wild cards aren’t even supposed to have shadows! I can’t predict what it’ll do next!”

A piece of ceiling nearly caves Ryuji’s head in. He swerves around it, gritting his teeth. Queen’s voice crackles in his ear. “We need to regroup! Get to the roof of the other building!”

Ren’s palace was split into two halves. One comprised of wide, open spaces, decorated with sprawling, stained-glass windows. A massive panopticon, the outside reflecting whatever they projected. The other—the one that housed the treasure room—was a penitentiary: closed, winding, and damn-near impossible to navigate. They needed keys from both halves to open another door, which provided them with the key to Ren’s cell.

Right now, the open, multi-colored windows of the panopticon make the perfect beacon. Ryuji hits the floor with a roll. He eyes the still-drawn drawbridge they had to use to cross—the river between the halves was more sludge than water, and Futaba couldn’t find any alternate routes, which meant a buttload of fighting and a severe security increase—and readies his hook. He can already see some of the others on the roof.

—And can hear the palace crumbling behind him. Ryuji kicks his legs faster, aims, and as soon as his feet touch the drawbridge, he launches clean over the water and onto the roof. Panther, Fox, and Noir land beside him.

“God, Ryuji, what did you do?” Panther groans, sprawled out like a starfish.

“What the fuck! I was just talkin’ to him!” Ryuji flails his arms in the direction of the other building. “I didn’t mean for him to go apeshit!”

“Fighting will get us nowhere—” Queen grounds out, healing them both while helping Panther to her feet, “—Considering we are actively in the middle of combat. Oracle, what’s Ren—what’s the shadow doing?”

“It’s bad!” Oracle’s voice cracks with panic. “He’s gaining power by the second! He’s almost maxed out, but that doesn’t matter when the palace is about to—!”

A sudden, deafening boom shakes the earth.

Ryuji throws his arms in front of his face. Wind whips at him, rubble and smoke pooling into his lungs. He coughs, eyes watering, looks up to find—

A massive, blood-red glove, followed by a sleeve as dark as night, protrudes from the roof of the second building. A second glove reaches upwards, knocking over towers, clawing past prisons, reaching up, up, up, towards a sky as red as itself. Ryuji can only watch as the hands grasp around the biggest spire, brace themselves, and pull—

A titanic, familiar head of hair joins them. Ryuji’s stares into the giant, unmasked face of Joker, of their leader, of Ryuji’s confidant and closest, deepest friend.

Joker’s blazing, golden eyes lock onto their little group, each probably as big—no, bigger than Ryuji’s skull. Even after facing Adam Kadmon, after Yaldabaoth, Ryuji has never quite felt so small.

Joker grins, unnaturally wide and knife-sharp, and begins to walk through rubble, through stones and tower and brick, towards them.

Oh, right, they’re in the middle of a fight. Trying to steal the heart of their leader. Against a hostile shadow that’s taller than Wakaba Isshiki’s.

“Shit,” is all Ryuji has time to mutter, before a wall of the second building falls. Its shadow falls over them, and they’re forced to make a leap.

Ryuji flails, barely managing to activate his grappling hook in time as the wall crashes down behind him. Queen’s voice crackles in his ear, “Fight! We CANNOT lose here! Keep your guard up! Skull, Violet, Mona, follow my lead! The rest of you, scatter!”

Ryuji follows her behind one of the tower’s spires. They’re close, too close to Joker’s shadow, but, shit, any stealth would help in this situation. Ryuji tries to imagine hitting the shadow, or it hitting them, and blanches. Violet lands next to him in a heap. “Is there any weaknesses? Anything we can hit him with?”

“No weaknesses! Shit-ton of HP, SP, and resistances! Attack and defense off the charts! Do NOT get hit by him! I’ll see if I can find a way to debuff him—!”

The tower sheltering them lurches. Ryuji cranes his neck back, only able to watch as a giant, gloved hand steadily crushes the tower in its grip. Joker’s massive head peeks around, assessing them like one would a pile of ants. Ryuji’s probably, barely the size of his finger.

When Joker’s gaze lands on him, he pauses. Ryuji’s blood prickles under that massive, golden stare. His voice reverberates across the ruined palace, “I see it now, thank you.”

Ryuji’s mouth, as it often does, runs faster than his brain. “See what?”

“My true power.” Joker’s voice echos bigger, louder. He sweeps a hand across the air. “I’m capable of so much more! This world couldn’t contain me if it tried. I’ll be unstoppable, powerful, big.”

His gaze narrows, and Ryuji’s blood freezes. “Without anyone standing in my way.”

Joker reaches forward. The shadow of his hand envelops Ryuji, his blood-red fingers blotting out the sky. They curl, slightly, reaching towards him, ready to grab—

A swirl of black and red pushes Ryuji to the side, and he has the perfect view to see Sumire’s form disappear. Joker’s fingers close around her, stop, and squeeze.

Her unconscious body emerges a few seconds later, and Ryuji can’t catch the extent of her injuries before he’s yanked away, again, as Diego pulls him off the ledge. Mona screams, “Violet’s down!”

Ryuji’s fingers find his earpiece. He shudders, letting his body sink into the freefall. “Is—is there anything we can do to damage him?”

“I don’t know!” Oracle screams back. “I’m looking! Keep him distracted!”

“Crow!” Panther says. “Have you ever—”

“Do you think I’d still be alive if I’d ever encountered a shadow like this?” Crow’s voice crackles in his ear. Ryuji can hear his sneer—and a round of fire. “Fuck—!”

Ryuji finally shoots out a grapple. He flings himself up, catching the tail end of Crow emptying a volley into Joker’s face. Noir’s situated on a ledge, her rocket launcher smoking. Joker stares down at them like someone would a dirt on a duvet.

Ryuji lands on a ledge, next to Queen. Even behind her mask, the hopelessness on her face is clear as day. She doesn’t know what to do. None of them do. They need a leader.

They need Ren.

But, well, Ren is currently wading through a building like it’s ocean water. Ryuji watches as Fox attempts an ice attack, only for him to be slammed into a tower, Gorokichi disappearing as he crumples like a puppet with its strings cut.

Panther’s voice crackles in his ear. “Oracle—!”

“I got it! The first building!” Ryuji follows Queen’s line of sight, into the massive, open panopticon. The stained glass warps its insides into a kaleidoscope of light. “It’s large enough to hold him! If we destroy the internal structure—or he does—the rubble might stop him in his tracks!”

“Won’t we get crushed, too?” Panther asks.

“It’s the only way! Lead him in there and target the pillars! He’ll fit inside no problem!”

Queen gathers herself, voice hard in a way that’s so, so close to Joker’s. “Rodger that. Panther! Oracle! You’re with me on luring him inside that building! Noir, Skull, and Crow, head over to the building and use your strongest skills on the interior when I give the signal. Mona, I need you to wait outside until we’re done. You’re agile, but there’s no point in healing if he can one-shot us. Revive us only after he’s immobilized. Everyone clear?”

“Clear!” Ryuji stutters out, to a chorus of the same in his ear.

“Let’s go!” Queen screams, and drops down to fire a nuclear attack in Joker’s face, before darting away. The skill doesn’t make a scratch.

Skull does what he’s told, keeping one eye on the group behind them. For their credit, Joker seems to be taking the bait. He pounces like a cat, making precise, lightning-fast grabs at whatever thief darts in front of him. For their credit, they’re able to dodge him, just as effectively as he’s able to destroy a tower in a single swipe.

Even so, none of them are aerial fighters. Ryuji is painfully reminded of that fact when an attack hits too fast for Queen to dodge, burying her under a heap of rubble.

“Shit—” Skull hisses, lurching back for her—

Only to be dragged forward by Noir. The girl’s eyes are hard, stalwartly not looking back. “Remember the plan. Panther and Oracle are almost here.”

Ryuji grits his teeth, falling into swing with her and Crow. The light splintering off the stained glass of the panopticon nearly blinds him.

They duck into the entrance—the glass is bullet-proof, a fact they found out after they first failed to cross the moat—and perch themselves on the highest level. It’s the most stressful 50 seconds of Ryuji’s life. Finally, Joker approaches. He steps clean over the moat, lurches forward, and smashes through the stained glass. Oracle’s ship barely manages to escape his fingers.

Okay. Mission success. They made it. Ryuji wraps his fingers around his mask, prepares to pull—

Only to throw himself off the ledge as Joker’s hand nearly crushes him and Noir, having crossed over to their side of the room in less than 3 seconds. Because they’re in an enclosed space with an enemy who is 150 feet tall.

To their credit, Joker doesn’t have that much space to move. He doesn’t really need room, when he just smashed through bullet-proof glass like tissue paper. He crushes the balcony in his fist, Panther narrowly dodging both it and the ensuing explosion. A rictus grin stretches across his face. Ryuji shudders.

“Herewald!” Crow screams, which is as good of a signal to start firing. Their first attack goes off without a hitch: his, Crow’s, and Noir’s strongest physical attacks shaking the building to its core. It doesn’t fall, not yet.

Joker wheels on them, eyes alight, and lunges, forcing them to scatter. They find their masks, and attack again.

The cycle repeats, dodging Joker’s attacks while aiming for the building containing him, since if it hits him it doesn’t do anything. Oracle buffs them when she can, while Panther keeps up a rapid-fire stream of healing. They go in circles, having to stop and switch to more running when Joker starts to catch onto their plan.

But for every hit they give, they take two more. Rubble rains as the panopticon falls. Shadows run out to see what the commotion is and begin to fire at them, Joker’s stamina remains high as their own deteriorates. One by one, they begin to fall. A pillar lands on top of Noir, smashing through both her and through the massive windows. Oracle takes a critical hit from Joker—which, fuck, can she even be revived? Ryuji finds he doesn’t have time to worry when he’s tagged in the back by a stray Garudyne, and lands in a heap on the floor.

Joker didn’t notice, which is great, because he would probably be crushed under his boot if he did. His teammates probably think he’s dead, which sucks, because the edge of Ryuji’s vision is starting to blur. He groans, trying and failing to drag himself to his feet. They always need a minute to recover after getting knocked down, but—they’re so close, they just need—

Crow howls, destroying one of the pillars just as a shower of rubble buries him. Panther aims for one of the few remaining pillars—there’s two, only two, since Joker’s destroyed the walls already. They’re so close--and promptly disappears behind a closed fist.

And suddenly, it’s just them. Just Joker panting, letting Panther’s unconscious body fall from his hand. Just two targets, and Ryuji barely, barely has enough health to tag both of them. Just the ice-cold fear that permeates his entire body, just the pounding of his own heart.

Ryuji hauls himself to his feet, channels every bit of phantom thief in him, and moves to duck behind a pile of debris—Only to trip on a few scattered bricks. He lets out a strangled curse. The sound echos through the ruins of the panopticon. Ryuji curls into himself behind the pile, squeezing his eyes shut.

He opens his eyes. He’s not—eviscerated, which means Joker didn’t hear him. Which means he still has a chance. Ryuji breathes a sigh of relief—

Booming reverberates from Joker’s direction, rhythmic in a way that could only be footfalls. Ryuji clamps a hand over his mouth. The footsteps—if they can even be called that—draw closer, and Ryuji jumps to hide behind a fallen pillar, about 10 feet away.

He peeks around the corner, watching Joker grind his heel into Ryuji’s former cover. He starts to look around—and Ryuji follows the side of the pillar, crouches behind it, just as those steady earthquakes draw near. He waits another few seconds, before darting behind a pile of rubble, this one situated farther on.

The clatter of marble echos through the panopticon, and Ryuji watches only enough to see the tip of the fallen pillar be lifted up, up, up. He exhales, shaky, and takes the opportunity to dart closer to one of the remaining pillars, the one that is so, so close.

The other is across the room. He’ll definitely alert Joker when he destroys the one nearest to him. That’s fine. He’s fine. Everything is fine.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Joker’s voice booms, accompanied by a spray of stone, no doubt him crushing the solid, marble pillar in his grip.

Everything is not fine. God, Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He isn’t equipped for stealth. He’s loud, obnoxious. He’s fucked them over with his big mouth more times than he could count—be it through Makoto, Akechi, or the countless enemies he’s alerted over their career.

He imagines Ren as he moves forward. Silent as a cat, even in heels. Able to duck around corners in the blink of an eye. He keeps his body low, like Ren does. Moves only when he knows the coast is clear. He steals glances when he can, channeling Ren’s calculated stealth.

“I know you’re here,” Joker sings, voice reverberating through Ryuji’s body, each syllable a pounding drum.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He wields electricity, sure, but he doesn’t compare to the literal storm behind him. How could he? When Joker’s voice rumbles like thunder? When every footfall rings like a clap of lightning? When he leaves complete, utter destruction in his wake? Ryuji’s strong, sure, but Yusuke and Haru and even Akechi have always hit harder. They should be the ones to deal the finishing blow.

He doesn’t back down, because he imagines them, too. They wouldn’t let their fear get the best of them. They would keep pushing forward, no matter the danger, no matter their heartbeat pounding in their ears, no matter the hard, iron knowledge that they’re going to die—

“Where are you hiding, little mouse?” A crash. A rumble. A spray of stone. Ryuji barely manages to suppress a flinch.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He failed Joker during the shadow talk. Fucked it up, because he handles situations with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He failed his teammates because he’s the last one standing, left watching his hiding spots explode with every step forward. He failed Ren, because he’s his bro and he didn’t notice something was wrong until it was far, far too late.

He’s so close.

“You’re testing my patience,” Joker growls, the sound going straight to Ryuji’s spine.

The pillar is 6 feet away, if that.

His footsteps boom closer, stopping just behind Ryuji’s hiding spot. “Do you actually think you can hide, little one?”

He grips his mask.

“The show’s only just begun,” Joker murmurs, close, far, far too close.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this, but he is.

He will not fail Ren again.

“William!” Ryuji bellows, and watches the first pillar explode in a cloud of dust. He doesn’t even have time to feel the recoil when a massive shadow envelops him. He throws his grappling hook out. The tip of Joker’s glove brushes his leg as it connects, latching onto one of the last remaining ledges.

He throws himself forward, Joker’s footsteps booming behind him. Sweat pools on his brow. The panopticon groans around him. A rumble, a sound like Joker snarling, fills the air.

Ryuji rips his mask off, screaming. He can feel the weight of Joker’s outstretched hand, not 3 feet behind him. He screams, “GOD’S HAND!”

The pillar explodes. The panopticon groans. The recoil from the attack flings Ryuji through the air, past Joker’s hand and body and towards the glorious, glorious hole Joker made on his way in. His vision wavers. Every movement is agony. Ryuji makes one last grapple to sail through the air and out the gap.

He turns around just in time to see Joker, lunging forward, golden eyes ablaze—

Before the place crashes on top of him, in an explosion of sound, dust, and pained, howling screams.

The fight leaves Ryuji like a gust of wind. He drops down onto one knee, body a tight, hot rod of pain. He hacks, dust twisting in his lungs. In front of him, Joker’s massive face peeks out of the rubble, twisted in agony. Pinned next to him is his hand, frozen in a grasp.

Ryuji grimaces. Yeah, he’s not moving anytime soon, but—fuck.

A shower of tiny, green lights wash over him. Ryuji’s pain fades to a dull ache. He whips around, almost colliding with Morgana. His bug-like face is set into something grim. “…Mission success. I’ll go look for the others.”

Ryuji hacks up another lung. He gestures, both to the destruction and the titanic, prone form before them. “Can ‘y even heal everyone?”

“It’s the Metaverse. I think I can, so I can.” Morgana shakes his head, grappling into the ruined building. Joker’s eyes follow him. He pauses, still close enough that Ryuji can hear him call back, “Just...keep an eye on him until then.”

“Ugn,” is all Ryuji can muster in response. Fuck, this place is a mess. There’s not like—long-term consequences for destroying the structure of someone’s psyche, right? Or, rather—he makes eye contact with Joker, unable to stifle a full body shudder. Are there long-term consequences for destroying your own psyche?

Joker doesn’t answer his thought-question, only continuing to stare. He’s heaving, each breath ruffling Ryuji’s hair like a gust of wind. His eyes are half-closed, his face is set in a grimace.

With nothing better to do, Ryuji sits cross-legged in front of the massive, trapped cognition of his friend, and waits.

Soon enough, Yusuke joins them—and the relief that crashes through Ryuji when he sees him is palpable enough to taste. “Shit, man, good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Yusuke frames his fingers around Joker, frowning. “I take it you’re the one who dealt the final blow?”

“Yeah. Fuck. Fuck, never again. Are the others…y’know.” He gestures. “Alive?”

“It won’t be long before they join us.” Yusuke adjusts his fingers, frowns deeper as he takes in Joker’s form. “Not to worry.“

After a beat, Yusuke hums. “…It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Trapped under the ruins of your own ambition, having only wanted to break the chains that bound you. For such a thing to be made manifest is humiliating.”

Joker doesn’t make a sound. He only looks away, the glare of his eyes dimming. Ryuji huffs. “Man, you don’t pull your punches, do you?”

Yusuke blinks at him. “Considering we are often locked in fatal combat with shadows, that would be ill-advised.”

“Not what I meant, dude.”

They sit in silence. It isn’t long before the rest of the thieves join them, trickling in every few seconds. First Akechi, then Sumire, then Makoto and Haru, then Ann, before Morgana and Futaba join their group. The center of attention is obvious, even if he seems to be avoiding eye contact like his life depends on it.

They’re checking over each others’ injuries, sparing glances at Joker every few seconds, when a quiet, monotone rumble fills the air. “I am pathetic, aren’t I?”

Joker’s gaze is fixed on the distance. Without the weight of his stare, Ryuji can almost, almost breathe. Joker continues, “All I wanted was to fly free, as you all did. You soared so high, you were able to break the chains that tied you down, yet I…can’t.”

The last bit of rubble sets around them. Haru clears her throat. She steps forward. “I almost didn’t. I was completely trapped under my father’s influence. I believed I would’ve served him for the rest of my life. It was you who showed me that there was more to life than what my father wanted, that I could grasp my freedom myself.”

“It was the same for me,” Sumire says. “I just wanted to escape, to be someone else. After what happened with my sister, there wasn’t any point in…being me. Than I met you, and the Thieves, and I felt like a person again. I became someone who my sister would’ve been proud of. Although…” She hesitates. “Throughout my journey, I only wanted to be someone like you. You’re so…”

When words fail her, Makoto steps in. Joker’s gaze swings over to her, and she hesitates for only a second. “Leading is so, so hard. I’m amazed at how you’re able to keep your cool. You’re one of the strongest people I know. During this infiltration, I was only copying what you would’ve done. You’re the glue that keeps us together, and you inspire us, in such a unique way. But…it’s for that reason that I apologize, for all of us, for not noticing anything was wrong before it was too late.”

Joker’s attention is lazer-focused on them. Futaba creeps forward, having ditched Al Azif after claiming it was too claustrophobic. “I know what it’s like to be trapped inside your own stupid brain. I—I thought I’d be stuck in the mental backrooms my entire life—”

“Bro—” Ryuji starts.

“Can it, Skull! This is how I cope.” Futaba fidgets with a strand of hair. “Just…I know what it’s like to be hopeless. And even after my heart change, I was still kinda…” She hurries when the group stares at her. “But—but the Thieves gave me something to live for! There was nothing more badass than changing lives, the way we did. Unlike with Medjed, I wasn’t alone. I had everyone, and I had you.”

After a beat, Ann steps closer, close enough that Joker could reach out and grab her if he wasn’t pinned. To his credit, he doesn’t move. There’s a ripple of panic nonetheless. Her voice is steel. “What do you think my life would’ve been without you? School would still be hell. I wouldn’t have found a purpose. Shiho would’ve never gotten justice. We’ve made change before, dummy, and we’ll do it again. Metaverse or no, I think we’re still capable of great things.”

“Indeed.” Yusuke adds. “The world is our oyster. There will always be a new adventure in the future, even if things seem hopeless. If you’re burnt out, there’s nothing wrong with taking a rest. We’ve made quite the change for one lifetime, correct? Though, I’d imagine you’d be amiss if things ended the way that they are.”

Everyone looks over to Akechi, who scoffs. He picks at the edge of his gauntlets, avoiding eye contact with the group. “You succeeded where I failed. You brought down my father. For that I am…eternally grateful. I’d rather not repeat what I’ve already told you in private, but I take it you remember our promise. And…” He hesitates, before speaking, every word stilted as if they were pulled out with pliers. “You have…something special here, with them. You’d—do best not to lose it.”

Morgana waddles up next to Ann. “There’s a reason the Gods chose humans as their champions, and why they chose you as the wild card. Humans may be tempted into despair, but you have such a strong will of power. I should know, I’m the embodiment of human hope, after all. You created me, because you decided to fight for me, for the world. Just know that…I’ll always be here to fight for you, too.”

Finally, Ryuji walks forward, stepping past Ann. Fuck, Joker’s massive. But—painted on those titanic features is pure, unadulterated vulnerability. Ryuji steels himself. “You, uh, didn’t let me finish earlier, man. You coulda gone apeshit at any time—but you never did! You were always there for us. You put your own shit aside for us, like, all the time. Like Makoto said, you’re the strongest person I know. You let us lean on you for—everything.”

Should he—punch him, or something? No, dumbass, you don’t hit a guy when he’s down. Ryuji rests his hand against his cheek, giving a grin when wide eyes—bigger than his head—lock onto him. “I want you to know you can lean on us, too. We’re here for ya, through—well, anything. Always will be.”

“Oh,” comes a familiar, quiet voice behind them.

The Thieves whip around. There, is Ren, clad in sweatpants and a plain, grey shirt. He’s normal-sized, eyes their natural, human color.

Makoto recovers first, face splitting into a soft smile. “You’ve been standing there this whole time, haven’t you?”

Ren nods, eyes wet. He walks forward, hands in his pockets, marveling at the scene before him. Ryuji backs up as he approaches Joker. The cognition only stares back at Ren, something like warmth in his gaze.

Ren ghosts a hand over Joker’s cheek, as if mapping the expanse of it. Joker’s eyes close, a faint light beginning to surround him. “I guess I lost sight of things.”

“We meant every word,” Futaba says. “We’re here for you, dummy.”

“...I know that now.” Ren’s voice is so, so quiet. None of them dare to overpower him. In the first noticeable change they’ve witnessed, Ren scrubs at his face, and admits, “I’m sorry, I’m not good with words.”

Ryuji walks forward and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m not either, and you still keep my sorry ass around.”

Yusuke clears his throat. “I believe what Ryuji meant to say is that we understand. No need to worry.”

“Just—” Ren’s voice breaks. He reaches out a hand, laying it flat on Joker’s forehead. The cognition’s eyes close, at peace. “Thank you. For everything.”

A million tiny lights swarm around them, and Joker’s form begins to fade. He breathes out, one giant, measured release of breath, before fusing into Ren’s body. The rubble sets in his wake.

Ren’s Thief outfit re-appears in a burst of flame, adorned with glittering, silver highlights. He turns back to the group, a teary, hesitant smile on his face.

The Thieves crowd around him, touching him whenever they can. Ryuji slings an arm around his shoulder, while Yusuke marvels over the new additions to his outfit. Makoto begins to corral them into the Monabus, and Ryuji leads them into the middle row, in the center of their friends. It’s almost like nothing’s changed.

And yet—Ren’s leaning his full body weight on Ryuji, answering questions honestly, without hesitance. His walls are down, and he lets the Thieves pass through them, taking their comfort and ears and love.

Phantom Thieves or no, they’ll stand by him, and Ren accepting that fact is all the peace Ryuji needs.

#g/t #p5 g/t #persona 5 g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fanfiction #g/t july #gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #day 31: free day #my writing #palace au

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