Chapter Text
Ren dreams of a world drowned in red.
Suspended in midair by black chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, he can neither close his eyes or turn away, never mind moving.
Crucified at the apex of the ruined world, the wails of the lost souls shriek and groan in his ears. He closes his eyes, but he can’t cover his ears to the blood-curdling sound.
Ruin. The word comes to mind, and it feels right, for some reason.
He doesn’t want to be here.
No, he can’t be here. He needs to find some way to free himself.
So Ren starts to struggle. Even as dread pools in his gut and eats away at his resolve, he has no control over his actions.
A ghastly, pointed bone curves up from the ground and misses his head by mere inches. Another strikes him, going straight through his foot. He opens his mouth in a scream, but no sound comes out. Still, he continues to fight and struggle and resist, even as more and more impale his body.
Soon, his body is riddled with holes. He can feel his elbow shift along with the bone impaling it, and it is just as immensely uncomfortable as it is painful.
He won’t give in, no matter how much they stab him.
No, his mind pleads. Don’t let me keep getting stabbed.
A final bone shard stabs straight through his heart. He wants to scream, to cry, something, but instead his mouth widens into a feral grin.
The blood that pours from his heart glows a bright blue before exploding into flames, overtaking the shard that pierced through his heart and spreading to the chains confining him. Brighter and brighter it burns, and louder does the deep chuckle growing within his chest become, until there is only the sound of flames and laughter.
<You are a prisoner… Want emancipation?>
~*
It‘s Ren’s first time in jail. Surprising, given how much stuff gets pinned on him on a constant basis.
Cleaner than he thought it would be, honestly, but bleak. Inaba’s crime rates had always been low, and had been even lower since the serial murders of 2011 ended, so the cells are empty.
Except for him, of course. Tucked away in the corner with the least amount of light, he sits in the holding cell with his knees tucked firmly against himself, his head resting against his arms.
“How long’s he been like that?” asks one officer, jerking his head towards Ren.
“Since we booked him in yesterday,” responds another. They both observe him like a caged animal at the zoo. “Hasn’t said a word after we questioned him.”
“Huh… Isn’t he that one kid everybody talks about? I knew he was quiet, but I didn’t expect him to be a troublemaker.”
At that, Ren peeks his head up ever-so-slightly. It’s become sort of a habit, listening in to conversations that have him as the topic.
“Yeah, it’s pretty surprising. I guess it goes to show that you never know what goes on in someone’s private life… Guess you can’t blame him, though. With folks like that, I’d probably have some tendencies , too.”
Ren bites the inside of his cheek, stopping him from speaking on the matter. Trying to correct people hasn't worked for the past nine years, so he isn’t going to waste his breath on something people have already decided for themselves. He may as well go back to staring at nothing and thinking about even less.
Just as the new day starts, Ren hears a different person walk in the door. He doesn’t look up at first, but as he starts speaking, his curiosity gets the better of him.
“I can take it from here, Dojima-san.”
He’s seen him around before, maybe. His name is… Narukami? That sounds right... ish. Silver hair like he has is pretty unique.
“You sure?” says Dojima. Ren only takes special note of his name because he had been the only one to actually check up on him so far. “Don’t wanna keep you up too late.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Tell Nanako I said hi for me.”
“I will. See you, kid.”
“See you.”
Once the door closes again, Narukami plops down into the chair with a quiet grunt. Ren tenses, thinking the man is about to try and engage in some meaningless, one-sided conversation with him, but is a little surprised when he doesn’t. Instead, he turns towards the desk, pencil in hand, and starts casually writing on some documents.
Ren waits five more minutes to see if the man decides to change his mind and harass him after all. When nothing comes of it, he lets out the tiniest sigh of relief. At least he’ll have some more time to himself.
~*
Two long, uneventful hours pass, during which Yu completes some more paperwork, sorts out some files, and responds to a few unread messages. Normally the busy work would be a quiet comfort amidst the chatter of the other officers and detectives, but with the absence of them, the silence is that much more oppressive.
Is Amamiya looking at him?
…No, his head is down. Probably asleep or something. It is two in the morning, after all.
Did his heart just… stutter?
…Probably just an irregular rhythm. He really needs to lay off the beef bowls. The egregious amount of sodium can’t be good for his overall health.
The moon shines through the window by the end of the third hour. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken on the late shift, he thinks. A notion that his body agrees with as several bones snick and pop as he stands.
Goodness. Should that many bones have popped at once? Maybe he is getting old, like Nanako keeps saying…
Again, Yu looks back at Amamiya. He’s so young. Too young to be locked up like this. The last time anybody relatively close to Amamiya’s age had been arrested had been…
Huh.
Serial murders, the Midnight Channel… Personas, the TV World… 2011 really had been five years ago. It sure doesn’t feel like it.
“...Hm?”
Yu stops his trip down memory lane. His heart is doing that same weird fluttery thing again. Now that he’s focusing a little more on it, he can feel something within his heart stir, too. That’s really weird.
Yet again, his gaze is drawn to Amamiya, and yet again, that strange feeling returns. No alarm bells are going off, per se, but there is something about him that perplexes Yu. Somehow, by doing absolutely nothing, it’s like he’s single-handedly managing to stir his soul in such a way that is so similar to how he feels when he summons Personas. No one, save for Aigis, had made him feel anything like that. Even with Aigis, that feeling had been… different. More diluted.
“...?”
Oh. Amamiya is looking at him. How long had he realized that he was being stared at? Probably long enough for him to be making that face. Great. What a wonderful impression he’s making on this kid.
“Ah, it’s nothing. Sorry to stare at you like that.” Yu figures it’s a pretty decent way to escape further embarrassment.
“...I don’t believe you.”
“I… Sorry?”
Yu thought he’d misheard, but Amamiya repeats himself with perfect clarity.
“I said I don’t believe you. No one looks someone dead in the eye like that for no reason.”
He’s… right, but Yu can’t exactly tell him that he had been staring at him because he thinks he might have a Persona. Then it would be him that seemed like he needed to be locked up instead.
“I don’t have to explain myself,” he says instead, half-hoping that his bluntness will stop this conversation before it has the chance to go into dangerous territory.
Amamiya stares at him, not deterred in the least. His gray eyes are narrowed and sharp in an effort to piece whatever bits of information he has together.
(This human’s gaze reaches far…)
Izanagi-no-Okami’s voice rumbles within the depths of Yu’s mind.
…!
(There is a slumbering potential within him.)
… So I’m not completely out of my mind!
“No,” Amamiya finally says. “You don’t. …But it was a little weird.”
He’s rather persistent. “What if I said I was spacing out?” Yu asks, not sounding convincing in the least. “Would you believe me?”
The kid surprises Yu by not rejecting his half-assed explanation outright, instead seeming to genuinely ponder over it. “…No. But I wouldn’t pry.”
Huh. “I was spacing out.”
This earns Yu an incredulous laugh from Amamiya.
“...You’re interesting,” he huffs.
“I don’t try to be,” Yu responds.
Although he had planned not to take the conversation further, this opportunity could be a good one to learn a bit more about Amamiya. Having made up his mind, Yu grabs the ring of keys from the desk and walks towards the cell.
“How about a shower?” he asks. “Might be good for you.”
“...At three in the morning?”
“Never too early for a shower,” responds Yu, already unlocking the holding cell with a jangle of keys. “Or late, depending on how you want to think about it.”
Amamiya stares at his hands, then pushes himself off of the ground. “Sure. …Thank you very much, Narukami-san.”
~*
For the people that are unfortunate enough to be booked overnight, there is a small area for them to shower. It’s a little worn with age, but regular maintenance keeps it a clean place. The only drawback is that there aren’t any privacy barriers, something that likely wouldn’t be a problem for Amamiya if he were the only one in there.
“...”
“...”
Amamiya’s face burns a light red when Yu’s gaze doesn’t leave him, even after he undresses.
“…Do you have to look?” he mumbles, slamming the shower handle counterclockwise until it locks on the hottest setting.
“I do,” Yu says simply, feeling rather sorry for the future state of Amamiya’s skin. “I know it’s not ideal.”
“...’s fine. …Crap!” Almost immediately after stepping into the water, Amamiya hisses and turns the knob back to the right some. “You’re… just doing your job.”
Yu has to admit, it's a touch uncomfortable watching someone shower. It didn’t use to be like this, but a few years ago and a rather unsavory shower incident ruined privacy for all of the future detainees. He opts to not look directly at him, but to at least have him in his general line of sight. That way, no one can say that he isn’t doing his job.
Yet again, Yu falls into a deep train of thought. He doesn’t know Amamiya that well, so he very well could be wrong, but it felt like there was some disparity between his demeanor and his tone. Both just seem like a front, but they also don’t feel disingenuous. It’s like he doesn’t know how to react to things… no, it’s more like he’s—
“You look like you have something to say,” Amamiya breaks the silence abruptly, his gaze hardening to a glare as he turns to face Yu. With the water running over him, it’s an especially intimidating sight. “If you do, I’d rather you say it to my face and get it over with.”
His open hostility is a little surprising. Yu thought that he would have tried to conceal it more. Then again, his mental state is probably all over the place right now. He can imagine it’s taking everything Amamiya has to not go bonkers.
Yu shrugs. “Not really,” he says simply. “Unless you want me to come up with something?”
“...What, you’re not gonna say anything about how I shouldn’t meddle in the affairs of adults?” Amamiya’s voice is nearly drowned out by the hiss of the water, but his bitterness and anger still comes through all too clearly.
“Should I be saying that?”
The young man closes his eyes, squeezing the light pink shampoo and massaging it into his soaking hair. He concentrates fully on the task at hand for so long that Yu starts to think that he hadn’t heard his question. “It’s what your coworkers have been saying,” he finally answers. “Isn’t that what you want to say, too?”
Yu narrows his eyes. He’s heard what the other people at the precinct have been saying, but their opinions don’t reflect his own. “Not even close.”
He has his own nagging suspicions about this whole situation. Although there’s not much he can really do with that alone, his nagging suspicions have turned out right on multiple occasions in the past.
“You look like you’re about to cry.”
Clearly not having expected that response, Amamiya stops what he’s doing, opening the eye that doesn’t have soapy suds running down over it.
“W… Why would I be about to cry?”
Compared to his aggressiveness a few seconds ago, he now sounds completely hollow. No doubt he’s on the verge of breaking.
“Because your life just got turned upside down in about ten minutes. You can’t be immune to that.” When Amamiya doesn’t grace that with a response, Yu continues. “…It’s not good to hold it in, you know. You’ve got a right to be upset. I won’t judge.”
The chances of Amamiya actually taking what he says to heart and allowing himself to be upset right here are astronomically low, but there's a lot of good in offering the opportunity. Teenagers can be some of the most stubborn people around, but they also face some of the worst pressure that society has to offer. If a genuine chance is offered for them to not have to worry about whether or not anyone's going to judge them for not being in control of themselves, then...
“...So you don’t think that I’m some stupid brat?”
Amidst the constant stream of water, it’s impossible to determine what comes from the faucet and what came as a byproduct of Amamiya's own emotions. But even with hazy, tired eyes, his gaze still manages to pierce right into his soul, and Yu can’t help but stare back.
“I don’t,” he confirms. “Nothing about what you did struck me as stupid or bratty.”
Amamiya looks away, the motion bringing his head out of the spray of the shower head. “I…”
Now that his head isn’t under the water, it’s easier for Yu to spot his tears before he hides them. He takes the towels from Yu, wrapping one around his waist and throwing the other on his face. He takes a suspiciously long time to wipe his face off before moving the towel to the top of his head, but Yu doesn’t say anything about it. That would just make him feel worse than he already does.
“...I don’t know if you’re just trying to console me, but I appreciate it.”
He follows Yu back to the laundry room, where they stand and wait on his clothes to finish in the washing machine. The loud hum provides a steady background noise to what would be an otherwise unbearable silence. “So. …What’s going to happen to me now? Do you know?”
Yu sighs. “Unfortunately, what they end up doing with you is out of my control. I just work here.”
“Mm." Ren had been hoping for a better answer, but it's not terribly surprising. "..Do you at least know when my arraignment is?”
“Hm… No, I don’t think…” Yu hesitates. Dojima had told him that, right? Or he had read it in his papers somewhere. He doesn't remember which of the two it is. “Actually? Yeah, it’s two days from now.”
The washing machine beeps. A pair of gray eyes watch Yu intently as he transfers the clothes over to the dryer, setting the cycle for the lightest load and then hitting start.
“Tell me honestly, Narukami-san,” says Amamiya, staring at the dryer as it tumbles his clothes around. “I don’t have a chance in court, do I?”
Yu considers. Amamiya’s pretty intelligent, so he’ll likely see through any lie he comes up with. Partial truths leave a bad taste in his mouth. But this truth… it’s harsh, and there’s no softening the blow it’ll do to him.
“...I’d say your odds are extremely low,” he says bluntly. “If they aren’t already zero. If I were your lawyer, I would be advising you to plead guilty and hope for the best.”
“Yikes. You… really didn’t hold back.” Despite that, Amamiya smiles some. It’s the first time that he’d done that in the few hours he’s been here— which makes sense, there’s barely anything to smile about if you’re in jail. “I do appreciate you being honest with me, though.”
“Of course.”
The next twenty minutes are spent in silence, each person with their own share of thoughts to immerse themselves in. It’s nowhere near as uncomfortable as the silence from earlier, so it’s much easier to bear.
“...You have to watch me dress.” Amamiya asks it, but it’s so flat that it may as well be a statement. He takes the clothes out of Yu’s hands and sighs, an utterly aggrieved look crossing his face before it settles into something bordering on pleading.
Yu shrugs. “I’m not looking at you.”
“You’re staring right at me.”
“Only at your face . ”
Amamiya sighs. It comes out a little muffled due to him pulling his shirt over his head. “Whatever you say.”
And the silence is awkward now. Both sides refuse to blink as they engage in an intense staring contest, lasting until Amamiya has all of his clothes back on. Even then, they stare at each other for a couple of seconds longer than necessary.
(...Are you going to say anything to him?)
I didn't really plan on it.
(...)
When Amamiya is back in the cell, he goes right back to his spot in the corner, stretching out tall before sliding down to a sitting position.
“Need anything else?” Yu asks, hovering by his desk. He’s not eager to sit down again, but he also can’t keep standing or he’s going to want to go out and about. He most certainly can't be going out and about right now.
“...No, I’m alright.” Amamiya brings his knees up against his chest and leans against the wall. “I think I just need to sleep.”
“Try and get some rest, then. I’ll bring you some breakfast in the morning before I clock out.”
“Mm… Thank you, Narukami-san…”
His breathing evens out surprisingly quick, so fast that he didn’t get a chance to see Yu’s face drop, or hear his quiet response.
“...But I haven’t done anything for you.”
~*
Being arrested is entirely different from being indicted. The nightmare is happening all over again. He’s too out of it to try and hide his fear from Narukami, who doesn’t bring it up in their conversation after they leave Inaba’s small courthouse. He guesses that’s a small comfort.
They have to extradite him outside of Inaba for some reason. Something about how the courts there deal with “more serious cases”. It’s not at all reassuring. Not for the first time that week, raw dread pools in his gut. What’s going to happen now? Everybody apparently thinks that there’s enough evidence for a case (something that Ren still finds himself baffled with— how can something come from nothing?), and that means that a conviction is pretty much inevitable. He knows what country he lives in, and the conviction rates of the accused. They’re not exactly hopeful figures.
Once they get back to the police department, Ren returns to his original position in the corner of the cell. After the day’s events and his weirdly real-feeling dream, he’s not inclined to fall asleep. So he just sits with his head down and waits four hours for everyone else save Narukami to leave.
His left side is leaned against the bars of the holding cell, facing straight ahead. The amount of times he’s had to force back tears the past few days is more than ten, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he just starts uncontrollably sobbing.
It’s been six days, he’s been formally indicted, His parents haven’t visited him once during all of this… Granted, they’d still be away for business, but they probably know where he’s at by now. They probably hate him and don’t want anything to do with him after this, and Ren wouldn’t blame them. He wants little to do with himself, as it stands.
~*
These people have to be Amamiya’s parents. There’s no way that they aren’t.
“Our son, Ren. Is he…?”
Amamiya’s father is soft-spoken, probably a little softer than his son, but there is certainty behind it that Yu thinks he would come to like if he were given the opportunity to get to know the man better. His curly black hair would have reached his collarbone had it not been tied up in the back— Yu can see where the hair genetics come from.
“He’s in the holding cell right there,” says Yu, nodding behind him. “I think he’s asleep, though…. I’ll wake him up.”
“How is he?” asks his mother. Compared to his father, her voice has a different, more outspoken sort of power to it. Amamiya may have inherited his father’s eye shape and the manner of speaking, but the eye color and face shape are definitely from his mother. Her are a round, curious gray, sparkling even in the dull light of the cloudy sky. With her shoulder-length chestnut hair, her whole existence is a striking contrast to the norm around Inaba.
“Alright as a person can get in here,” Yu responds honestly. “Especially someone in his situation.” Kneeling down by Amamiya, Yu reaches his hands through the bars to tap the sleeping boy on the shoulder.
“Amamiya-kun,” he murmurs. “Your parents are here.”
~*
Ren wakes up to the feeling of being poked in the arm. …Did Narukami say that his parents were here?
“Mom…? Dad…?”
Rubbing his sleepy eyes, the worried faces of his parents soon come into view. A sudden rush of emotion grips him, and it prevents any further words from coming out. He tries to smile a little, but that just makes the reality of his situation almost too much to bear, so he sinks his head back into his arms.
“How are you, Ren?” his father asks softly, sitting down in front of the cell.
Ren looks away from them. “...Fine,” he whispers. He catches the frown Narukami sends his way, and his own face twists as his lie surfaces for what it is.
“You look exhausted,” points out his mother. She follows her husband’s lead and also sits in front of the cell, face-to-face with her son. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Something between a sigh and a strangled laugh escapes him, and he pushes his foot into the featureless gray floor.
“...I’m so sorry.”
It’s all Ren can think to say. Nothing about it provides any kind of comfort, or reassurance, or compensation for what’s happened, but it’s nonetheless still all he can provide.
“You’re probably mad, and you have every right to be. …I messed up.” Neither of them had asked, but his chest feels like it's going to implode if he doesn’t get to say this. “Even after everything you guys have done for me, I… still messed up. And I can’t fix it… there’s no chance for me to make it right… I’m so sorry.”
When had Ren’s heart ever beat so loudly in his ears? Louder and louder it drums, faster and faster it pulses, until—
“What makes you think we’re mad?” asks his father. His words come out so gentle, and yet they put a stop to the frantic rhythm of Ren’s telltale heart.
“...Huh?”
Ren’s mother smiles, reaching to stroke his hair through the bars. “What kind of parents would we be, getting angry at our child over something like this?”
He doesn’t understand. Why aren’t they mad? Why aren’t they upset with him? Why don’t they forsake him like so many others already had? “But I… they had to have told you that I…”
“They did, but we’re not inclined to take them at their word as opposed to our son.”
How can anyone despise such kindhearted people?
“...I don’t— I don’t want to have to do this. … Any of this.” Ren admits. His words are almost inaudible even in the quiet room. “Court, trial, anything… I don’t… I can’t…”
It’s not enough. It doesn’t fully explain his shallow breathing, or the aching hollow void devouring any other emotion from properly blossoming.
“...I’m so scared.”
This realization takes a second to sink in, but when it does, it hits like a ton of bricks. One stuttered breath, then two, and then the true crying. Pure, unfiltered, ugly crying, one caused by repressing too many strong feelings for far too long.
Ren’s mother holds his face in her hands, thumbing away the torrent of tears, while his father grasps his hand and holds it steady. Words of comfort aren’t needed in this situation— the actions of his parents are more telling than anything words and their convoluted meanings could ever form.
Eventually, Ren manages to tell them everything that he remembers about that night. Everything but the man’s name comes up; Ren can’t for the life of him remember, and nobody has said it since he’s been incarcerated.
It hurts, but this is only the beginning. This is only the beginning, and Ren is already at his limit. He knows what the result of his trial is going to be, can hear the single word verdict repeat over and over, and hear the final bang of the gavel, but he doesn’t want to live through that moment. He just wants to curl up and disappear forever, just to escape the shattered future of life after the trial.
But there’s no running from reality, and there’s no breaking free from a predetermined fate.
~*
With the unwavering promise of remaining by his side, his parents depart the station for the night. Amamiya finds sleep soon after. Yu doesn’t know why he chooses to be tucked in a ball like that in the corner— his neck is not going to thank him for that, that’s for sure. Still, it’s an improvement from the past several sleepless nights he’s had. His parents likely had something to do with that— their reaction had probably been weighing on Amamiya’s mind for as long as he’d been in here.
They’re good people as far as Yu can tell. Even when he had first come to live in Inaba a few years ago, he had never understood the hostility towards him or his family, especially since no one he’d asked had ever given him a straight answer.
“...”
The system’s flawed, Yu knows that. Dojima had even warned him when he had initially decided to follow in his footsteps.
“You’re gonna see some ugly stuff. Even in a small town like Inaba, there are injustices everywhere that we can’t do a damn thing about. It’s just how it is.”
But hearing about it and seeing it are two different things. When he started, he had still been certain, but now that he’s being faced with a situation like this, he finds himself at a loss. Is Amamiya just going to be an example of that injustice? Is there really nothing Yu can do for him?
A criminal record is going to be a hard thing to live with.
(So you truly have no faith that he will escape a conviction?)
…I don’t.
He had taken the liberty to brief himself on the details that had been “conveniently” left out. One name in particular had cropped up, and it had made Yu’s heart drop. Conviction rates are already over ninety-nine percent, but when this particular man was involved, it sealed Amamiya’s fate the moment he decided to do something.
Amamiya doesn’t have a way to fight back. I’m worried that he will want to take it a step further.
(He is but a child. I do not believe that he will want waste his time on something that is “trivial.”)
Still. I don’t want him inadvertently taking that chance and having something worse happen to him because of it.
The Conspiracy is already prominent enough to pose a threat to where even the Kirijo Group and the Shadow Operatives have to be extra cautious. Letting a wayward sixteen-year-old take his chances with a force like that… It's like digging your grave and signing your own death certificate all at once.
(Your personal feelings will not have an effect on what the boy chooses. Even if you were to tell him your reasoning, he is unlikely to change his mind.)
I know. …I can at least hope, though.
~*
One week later, Ren’s day of reckoning arrives.
“I’m gonna stand you up,” Narukami says. A firm, but gentle hand holds the crook of Ren’s arm and pulls him up with ease off of the cell floor. “...There. You good, or do you need a minute?”
Ren closes his eyes, actually giving it some serious thought. Either way, he’s going to that courthouse, it’s just a matter of if he wants to delay it by a few seconds or not.
“...I’m good,” he nods. “We can go.”
Narukami guides him out of the station and to the police car out front, where he buckles him in the back and, strangely enough, removes his handcuffs.
“Are you comfortable back there?” the gray-haired man asks once he climbs in the driver's seat. “Well, as comfortable as you can be?”
Ren nods. “Mhm.” The back of the police car is miles more comfortable than the floor of a holding cell. "But, um... You're not gonna keep the handcuffs on me?"
"Do I need to?"
There's no way to tell what the man in the driver's seat is thinking as he rattles the metal cuffs by his finger behind him, not even looking back to catch the quite blank stare that Ren is giving the back of his headrest.
"...Um, that's alright. But thanks for... offering?" Is that what that had been?
"If you're sure." Narukami places the handcuffs back where he got them from and shifts the car into drive, pulling out of the small parking lot and out onto the main road.
Ren initially resigned himself to staring out the window for the next two hours or so, but he'd sorely underestimated just how tired he was, and just how much of a quiet, lulling car ride can promote sleep. Only when an hour and a half goes by, when Ren awakens from his nap and when the countryside starts to transform into the outlines of suburban neighborhoods and distant city skylines, does the sound of a voice fill the car again.
“...None of this is fair,” he mumbles.
Narukami glances up in the rearview mirror.
“I know,” he says.
It’s a dangerous thing to say, especially with such powerful forces pushing the opposite narrative. But Narukami does not lack conviction, nor does he show any hesitation.
“Need to vent?” he asks. “You don’t have to, but I’m willing to listen if you need.”
Ren stares at him like he’d grown wings on the spot. “What?”
“What?”
“…Nothing,” The boy shakes his head. He’s never been one to look a gift horse in its mouth— and he’s not about to start now. “…You’re weird, wanting to listen to me of all people.”
Narukami blinks. “Should I not want to?”
“No. I mean, yes? I mean— huh?” Shaking his head, Ren gently taps the side of it against the bars that cover the window. “I… guess not? I… don’t actually know.” He grimaces at his own words. “Sorry. I’m not good at talking about myself.”
“No worries. I get it.” Narukami hums, tapping his index finger against the steering wheel. “...It may be a little weird hearing this from a stranger, but I hope that you won’t let other people stop you from finding the truth.”
“The… truth?”
“Yeah. And much more importantly, your truth. Even if it feels like everyone around you hates you, there are always those that will stand by you until the very end.”
“...Huh. Didn’t take you to be a waxing philosopher, Narukami-san. …You must be older than you look.”
“Eh. I’ve just been living a little longer, and have a little bit more experience under my belt.” He clicks on his turn signal and moves over into the far left lane. “…And I resent that implication.”
“What, that you’re old?” Ren dares to say, the tiniest hint of a smirk dancing across his face for a second. Then he realizes that Narukami is his superior in pretty much every way and he probably shouldn’t step on any more toes. “Ah, I’m sorry…”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. You may be right— I just might be in my denial phase.”
“...How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Yikes. That’s pretty old.”
“You’re not that far behind,” Narukami points out.
Ren winces. “I’d like to not think about that,” he says. “Especially right now.”
“Then don’t. Chances are, you’re going to be an adult far longer than you’re going to be a kid. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
He would be taking that advice, except there’s a small problem. “This sure isn’t helping me enjoy it,” says Ren only half-jokingly, tapping the door lightly.
Just out of Ren’s sight, Narukami digs his nails into the steering wheel.
“... Not at all,” he mutters.
~*
Twenty minutes later, they pull into the parking lot of a courthouse much bigger than the one in Inaba. It is very daunting for someone who’s known nothing but the countryside.
“Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst.” Narukami gives Ren’s shoulder a firm clap once he gets him out of the car. “Even if your chances of getting off are nonexistent, don’t give up hope until that gavel comes down.”
Ren nods. “Even if it’s incredibly pointless.”
If only you knew how right you are…
“Even if it’s incredibly pointless. Because it takes courage to hold your head high in the face of injustice, expression to realize various angles of the situation, understanding to bolster your resolve, knowledge to grasp the truth, and diligence to keep fighting for right!”
“Um…” For some reason, this makes complete sense to Ren. “Yes!”
“That’s the spirit.” Satisfied, the officer holds Ren by the arm with one hand and ruffles his hair with the other. “Keep that strength. I think you’re gonna need it.”
~*
The trial is a joke. By all accounts, Amamiya should have been found “not guilty”. All the prosecution has is a witness's shaky word, the supposed victim didn’t even show up to testify.
Still, they find him guilty in less than two hours.
Probation… It’s not bad, but it’s still going to be rough. Impossible, if he decides to do it in a place like Inaba. With this knowledge likely in mind, Amamiya’s parents make the tough decision to send him to Tokyo, as it’s the only place with both someone willing to house him and a school willing to accept him.
…That may actually end up being worse. Tokyo is Conspiracy territory for sure.
He’s definitely going to have a Persona at this rate.
(The possibility is relatively high.)
I think it’s more than a “possibility”. And he’s going to be headed straight into the lion’s den.
(...A storm is brewing.)
…A big one. And I don’t think we’ll be able to do too much about it.
(I believe you have already set a small spark. It is up to him to be the tinder that spreads that flame.)
…I just hope he doesn’t have to go through anything like what we had to.