... In which the issues between Akechi and my friends boil over at last, and I'm still caught in between. Will I find a way to convey to them that continued suspicion is not the answer . . . And is there a way across the improbable distance between the two of us too?

. . . T-20 days

******************************************

When we exit the palace, I still feel a little sick. I haven't said much for the remainder of our stay in the Metaverse, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Akechi's words and the replies he elicited either.

Considering how much he struggles with genuineness, especially in a vulnerable sense . . . Thank you for keeping your promise. My chest tightens. This must have meant everything to him, and it must have cost all his courage to say.

That was for Joker, not you.

"I suppose for now, I'll see you all later." Yusuke's voice cuts into my thoughts, and I lower my gaze toward him from the outskirts of Dr. Maruki's palace above us. No one is here besides the ten of us, and despite everything, the sight of it still unnerves me slightly.

"Yes!" Sumire chimes, bowing respectfully. "Thank you very much for your guidance!"

"Oh, don't mention it." Futaba waves.

"We're happy to have you," Haru adds with a smile. The four of them make off in different directions, and behind them, Akechi also takes a step back, yet before he can leave, I push through and grab him by the sleeve. He isn't getting away from me until I've said what's been banging at the back of my mind ever since that safe room.

He looks down at me with an expression that chills me to the bone. "What?"

"I was fighting Shido for you."

> "I fought Shido for your sake."

His scoff is so contemptuous that it makes me flinch. "You say that like I give a shit."

But he does. He's not letting it show now; his face is more closed-off than I've seen it in a while, and it makes my heart ache. Nonetheless, I know that he cares. Otherwise, he wouldn't have brought it up.

"You honestly expect me to believe that you, of all people—who were wronged by him yourself—can say such things? Spare me." For one moment, I can hold his gaze, loaded with insurmountable suspicion. Then he rips his arm out of my hand. "I'll see you whenever you decide that we're going to Mementos," he says, turning.

"Hey, dude, what's with you?" Ryuji cuts in, and I flinch again. "Is that any way of reacting to being told somethin' like that? You could at least thank her, y'know?" He places a hand on my shoulder, and I stiffen up.

For a moment, I detect a flicker of conflict on Akechi's face as he struggles to not mention that he attempted to do exactly this in the safe room. Then he shrugs. "I could."

"Rin, you're just going to let him accuse you of lying like that?" Makoto asks, and I bite my lip so hard that it hurts.

"She shouldn't," Akechi snaps. "But unfortunately, she's a fool."

"Hey!" Ann appears on my other side. "You could at least try to be a little nicer. She's done nothing but stand up for you so far."

"And we've told you—we'll treat you the way you treat us," Makoto adds coldly. "If you want to antagonize us, you can have that."

I clench my fists so hard that it hurts, feeling my chest tighten and my breath become unsteady. I have to use all my willpower in order not to yell here and now—in public—at them all to stop. Just stop. Stop . . .

"Me?" Akechi looks around. Yet before anyone can reply, he leans back. ". . . Anyway, let's not become distracted by such no longer relevant matters. We have a mission. If you understand what the word "cooperate" means, that is."

"You're one to talk," Makoto mumbles.

"Uh . . . I mean, Akechi's got a point," Morgana says unexpectedly. "Guys, maybe we should at least try to get along?"

I throw him a grateful look, yet before he can go on, Ryuji exclaims, "I am trying!"

"Me too, but I'm not going to stand by and let anyone accuse Rin," Ann adds. "Even less someone she cares so much about. Do you have any idea how much she defends you?" Ann snaps. "And Rin's one of the most honest, upstanding people I've ever met. You have no grounds for calling her a liar. You know, I really want to give you a chance," she adds after a pause. "But you're just making things harder for yourself like that."

"That's none of my concern," Akechi retorts before I can speak, and my throat tightens. "Neither did I ask to be defended nor am I here to make friends. I am here because I have a mission."

"No, dude," Ryuji cuts him off. "You're only here because Rin's too kind for her own good."

"Guys, stop!" I exclaim, drawing all gazes. But I can't keep my mouth shut a second longer. "Please, just stop," I beg, stepping between them and inadvertently extending my hands. "Thank you, but you don't have to defend me," I say to my friends. Then, to Akechi, "And I'm sorry for how dismissive they're being."

"You're apologizing to him?!" Ryuji exclaims, yet I ignore him.

"No one here is trying to antagonize each other," I plead. "I know that you mean well . . . all of you. Just, please, can't we all get along?"

"That would simplify matters," Akechi says frigidly.

I give him a grateful look, then clasp my hands together. "But . . . I'm really not lying. I did fight Shido for you. I just—" I break off, unsure of how to prove this to him.

Akechi merely turns his head away, and I feel a pang in my heart. If there's ever been any words of mine besides declarations of love that I wanted him to believe, it's these. But neither did I tell any of my friends about this back then, nor was I able to record Shido's Shadow's final words. And how else would I even prove such a claim . . . ?

"Be that as it is," Makoto interjects after a pause. "Rin's right. All of this fighting is pointless. We're working together for now, and so we're going to have to tolerate each other."

My gut contorts at her calling it "tolerate", yet no one corrects her.

"We really have bigger things to worry about than that old feud," Ann mumbles.

"Exactly. And don't worry, we're not going to quit our deal or anything," Morgana says to Akechi directly. "I'll make sure they won't."

"Yeah, yeah." Ryuji kicks a pebble. "As long as Rin says so . . . we're gonna tolerate you for her sake. Just be careful what accusations ya throw out there next time, 'kay?"

There's a long pause. "For her sake, huh?" The way Akechi speaks the words sends an icy chill down my spine. "Of course, it's for her sake."

"What do you mean?" Makoto asks, raising an eyebrow.

Akechi looks at her disbelievingly. "Never mind," he adds after a pause, but I . . . recognize that tone in his voice. It clumps my gut into a tight knot. I want to say something, but . . . the only words I have are lackluster, to say the least.

"It doesn't have to be for my sake."

> "Not everything is for me . . ."

"Spare me." Akechi scoffs, whipping around. "At this point, don't you think we could stop pretending like that's the case—like everything is not for you? Your responsibility? Your choice? Even the path of humanity." He waves his hand and Lavenza's words flash in my mind. "That's exactly what Maruki claims for himself, y'know? But you're probably the only one who could genuinely get away with such a claim."

"Dude, chill!" Ryuji cuts in. "Didn't we just say we weren't gonna fight anymore?"

"You could show some respect too instead of constantly accusing," Makoto adds, and I grit my teeth.

As expected, all the words do is elicit an icy glare. "And what if I don't?" Akechi dares, taking a step back and spreading his arms. "What will you do then? Put me at some kind of universal disadvantage for "not playing by the rules of this world"? Well—too late. That's how I've lived my whole fucking life."

My mouth opens, yet my mind is void of words. Yaldabaoth and everything that I've revealed to him about the bet flash in my mind, and . . . I can't bring myself to reply at all.

"What are you talking about?" Ann asks, and I don't know whether I should be upset that she's already forgotten what we were all told in the velvet room.

"Uh, is this about . . . Yaldabaoth?" At least Morgana remarks, approaching us. "You know that bet's over, right? It doesn't matter anymore."

"Right. That's what you told me," Akechi says directly to me. "You told me it was over."

> "It is . . ."

"It's all over."

He scoffs with such disgust that I flinch. Then he looks around, incredulous. "You don't even see it, do you? None of you do."

"See what?" Ann asks.

Don't you think we could stop pretending like that's the case—like everything is not for you? Your responsibility? Your choice? Even the path of humanity. His words repeat in my head over and over, and I'm suddenly wondering if he doesn't even mean the bet itself. Whether that's just the tip of the iceberg of all the things that he . . . claimed to hate me for, a not-even-so-long lifetime ago.

"I'm not going to claim that what Yaldabaoth did wasn't unfortunate, but . . . they're right," Makoto says after a pause. "That's all over now. And regarding everything else, at least you could admit that you were wrong to doubt Rin's intentions. Why are you acting like she's the one who betrayed you?"

"Yeah, she wasn't the one who did somethin' wrong!" Ryuji exclaims. "Did ya even apologize to her yet?"

I open my mouth to tell them this has nothing to do with who did what wrong, but Akechi beats me to it. "Right," he sneers. "I'm just a petty, sour loser who's a little too obsessed with control—is that what you think of me? That's fine, you know." He takes another step back, crossing his arms. "You can think of me however you like. But you do not get to decide whom I have to tell what or whom I have to trust."

One second of loaded silence goes by, then Akechi turns to face me directly. "Is that what you want—what you expect from me?" he snaps suddenly. "And I've told you before—if you're waiting for something to change back to normal, you can stop right there. And get out before your hopes grow so high that their collapse will hurt you needlessly."

"Bunch of excuses," Ryuji mumbles, and at that moment, I want nothing more than to tape his mouth shut. All he's doing is making things worse.

Instead, I try to make my intentions clear: "I'm really not trying to—"

Yet Akechi cuts me off. "This is no excuse," he hisses. "This is a fact: I do not owe it to anyone to change or be a certain way. Not anymore . . . Never. You do not control me. Not you—" His eyes bore into me relentlessly. "Not Maruki, and not any other force, in this or another reality. And you . . ." Crossing his arms, he shifts his weight. "I've asked you before . . . But maybe I should ask again, just to make certain. For you to say such things, what am I to you, really?" Akechi repeats this question that has never quite left my mind, glaring so viciously that I flinch back. "A side piece in your story? A love interest? If that's the case, I have news for—"

"You're my counterpart," I repeat my answer with conviction. It has changed as little as the question has.

"Right." There's an almost unbearable amount of weight in his quiet voice. "Because we're so equal."

I can no longer help myself. "I didn't choose this either!" I call, stepping toward him. "I don't want to be exceptional or receive all of this special treatment. I don't want to choose the path for humanity . . . or be some grand savior. I don't know why they all treat me as such." I whip around to my friends, who stare at me, mouths agape. "Could you please stop?" I plead. "We're all equals. That's what I want. I just . . . I . . ." I turn back to Akechi, blinking back tears. "I want this as little as you!"

There's a long pause. Then, to my astonishment, Akechi says quietly, "I know." He shakes his head. "That's what makes it so difficult. That's what made it impossible to truly hate you, even when I told you that I did. Why can't you just go along with it?" he snaps. "Why can't you just embrace being a self-absorbed, carefree show-off who doesn't think twice about basking in all the praise and spotlight? Who doesn't waste her time trying for me . . . believing? That's all it'd take for me to hate you."

I stare at him without a shred of doubt regarding the truthfulness of his words. It was my belief, my kindness, and my . . . love that he couldn't hate. The same love that he told me was loathsome back then. But only because it . . . was the one thing that prevented him from actually hating me.

"I'd still love her if she were all those things," Ryuji says unexpectedly, shrugging. "It's not like she's not earned a little pride."

"And what's so wrong with basking in deserved praise?" Ann adds.

"You're saying . . . that's all it'd take for you to . . . hate her?" Makoto asks incredulously. "Is the line between love and hate really . . . that thin?"

There is a loaded pause. "While I can't say I wouldn't love you all the same if you were a little less humble and kind," Morgana chimes in, turning from me to Akechi. "I also get where you're coming from. You're still envious of her. And while it's easy to hate someone you're envious of if they're an insensitive show-off, it's much harder when they're humble and kind."

Another moment of unbroken silence goes by, and I grapple with my feelings regarding the unconditional affirmations from my friends. It . . . doesn't mean that they don't care for my kindness, does it?

I look at Akechi and realize that I find his clear assertion about why he loves me much more comforting. Not even I would like myself anymore if I suddenly stopped being kind. And while unconditionality is comforting sometimes, it's . . . not what I want. I look at my friends and, even if it makes me seem ungrateful, wish they could be more of a failsafe—less afraid of telling me when I'm straying from the path of goodness, of calling me out when I need it—when I'm no longer being true to myself. Then I look back at Akechi, and it hits me that he's the one who's done this without fail so far.

For one heartbeat, we hold each other's gazes, and part of me thinks he understands. "Humble and kind," Akechi eventually reiterates in a quiet voice. "How dare you?"

I almost laugh at the sheer offense in his voice.

"How dare you—" he repeats, "be neither resentful, suspicious, nor inconsiderate? Defend me? Tell me things that—" He cuts himself off. "And then give me that . . . choice. What do you want from me?"

The repeat of this question, not an ounce less doubtful than before, stabs into my heart. I step closer and reach for his hands, yet when I take them into mine, Akechi doesn't reciprocate the grip; he only asks quietly: "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I tighten my hold, finding it difficult not to begin shaking him. "Because I don't know what to do," I press out, turning to my friends, who look at me like they're moments away from starting a coordinated maneuver to pry me away from him.

Then I turn back to Akechi, speaking quickly and quietly, before either the words or my courage desert me. "Because I understand why you're envious and why you're suspicious. And it upsets me that I can't do anything about the underlying reasons for those issues. I want you to have trust and forgiveness and acceptance . . . But I don't want to force anyone to give them to you. Yet whenever I try to give myself, you fight me every step of the way, and I don't know how to show you that you don't have to. That you deserve it. That I don't have any ulterior motivation for being kind. Please stop fighting me," I plead. "I just want you to trust me."

Akechi looks at me like I've gone insane. "I trust you more than I trust anyone," he says quietly. "You want more?"

My mouth opens and closes, but I cannot reply. No matter what I say now, neither answer will be fully truthful . . . or satisfy either of us.

"Rin, you don't have to be so humble," Makoto says suddenly. "You're allowed to ask for more."

"Duh!" Ryuji chimes in. "How are you even considering settlin' for that?"

"I mean, isn't all that kind of subjective?" Morgana asks. "Like, what's considered a lot and a little?"

"Yeah, and this isn't really any of our business . . ." Ann concurs. "Although I'm not saying you should sell yourself short, Rin," she adds after a moment's silence.

There's a long pause. Then Akechi wrenches his hands out of my grasp, stepping back and lifting his head toward my friends. "You're right," he says in a voice that sends a chill into my core. "She should most certainly not settle for that. And yet, that's all she's getting."

"Dude, you're the one whom she wants somethin' from!" Ryuji exclaims.

Akechi makes a face. "Which is a poor choice on her behalf, to say the least." Before I can interrupt him, he pivots back to me. "Listen close now; I will not be told what to do or what to think. I will not change because you happen to want it. Either stop demanding things that I cannot give you, or leave me alone." He pauses. "I trust in your capability to recognize that one choice stands out as clearly better than the other."

I stare into his face, trying to recall the last time I've seen him look at me with so little openness . . . and feel a lump of proper panic form at the back of my throat. "I'm not—"

I don't know what I intended to do when I step closer to him again—take his hand or simply attempt to bridge the invisible gap that he's digging between us. Yet when I extend a hand toward him, he slaps it away.

"—Just leave me alone."

Without another word, he pivots on his heel and storms off, leaving me to stand there, my hand still raised . . . and my chest blooming with pain from the fresh knife he stabbed into my heart.

"What the hell, man?" Ryuji exclaims behind me. "What's his problem?"

"I don't know," Makoto replies. "But maybe it is for the best. Let's just hope that this split doesn't compromise our mission."

I pivot back to her, barely containing my panic. "We're not breaking up!"

"Huh?!" Ryuji calls. "That . . . wasn't a break-up?"

"No!" I wipe my eyes, trying my hardest to contain the rising tears . . . and believe my own words. "I just . . . he . . ."

"Rin, I'm sure it's gonna be okay," Morgana says soothingly. "He probably just needs to get used to the whole concept of close relationships. I don't think he feels any differently about you now than before."

I nod vehemently, stuffing my hands into my pockets. He . . . can't genuinely want me to leave him alone. But why . . . Either stop demanding things that I cannot give you, or leave me alone. The recollection of those words twists the knife in my chest, yet also . . . My eyes widen as something dawns on me.

"Why did you have to say that?" I snap at my friends, who look at me, stunned. "You were not justified in trying to make me insist on more."

"We're just . . . concerned that you're selling yourself short. We only want what's best for you," Ann says in a voice laced with a mix of concern and sympathy.

"I don't care!" My voice cracks, yet they still all flinch. "You know nothing about him. Nothing about—" I cut myself off before I can say that they've just inadvertently reaffirmed his misbelief that he can't give me anything other than heartache.

Not . . . what he thinks I deserve.

That he's . . . not good for me.

I swallow hard, trying to contain my trembling. "You know nothing about him," I repeat the one truth that I can tell them, and in their faces, I see that they know I'm right.

"But isn't trust, like, a minimum requirement?" Ryuji grumbles.

"Trusting is an impossibility for him right now," I hiss back. "By your logic, that precludes him from being loved."

No one has a reply to that. They just stare at me as if they're only now realizing that this might be something he'd struggle with after living his whole life in solitude, deliberately isolated and used by a world intent on corrupting him in order to fulfill his role as the . . . villain in . . . my story.

I avert my eyes to the ground, yet speak determinedly: "He needs reassurance and security, not more suspicion . . . or to be told that he isn't enough the way he is." My voice cracks again, yet I do not let that stop me. "Or that his sacrifice meant nothing to anyone."

"W-Wait, when did we say that—?" Ryuji asks, and I glare at him until he flinches back. "Hol' up . . . You mean that thing with Shido?"

"I guess . . . maybe that was a little insensitive," Ann admits.

"But it was the truth!" Ryuji calls. "You think that, like, hurt his feelings or somethin'?"

I stare at him for a moment, then shake my head. "He would never want anything but the truth. He might have just been . . . disappointed." As am I, I do not add. "Is that really true?" I ask instead. "Did you really not think of him at all when we fought Shido?"

I don't even need to wait for a reply. In their faces, I see that they did not lie. They only thought of me, all while I myself . . . I bite my lip so hard that it hurts. But I'll tell Akechi this truth too if he ever asks. It's what he'd want, I repeat to myself over and over. And it's . . .

"That's fine. You do not have to care," I force out of my mouth. "But why is it so hard for you to drop your suspicion, at least? You do not have to like him. But can't you at least show a little sympathy?"

A moment of silence goes by. "He's not gonna apologize or ask for it, is he?" Ann says, her eyes on the floor. "He's gonna keep being defensive and cold until we start being nicer." I nod, and she sighs. "I guess it can't . . . hurt. I just never know what to say around him, honestly."

"Because you've never bothered to get to know him," I retort, earning a collective murmur. "Do you have any idea how hard I had to fight until he accepted me?" I mumble. "And despite that, he still can't accept the idea that someone cares about him . . . without ulterior motive. Without reservation or dishonesty. Without any plans to manipulate, or deceive, or . . . force him to be a certain way."

". . . He's never had that before." Makoto says it like some kind of groundbreaking conclusion.

"Isn't that what we're all about?!" I exclaim, earning another wave of murmurs. "You insist that I'm the leader—well, as leader, I founded the Phantom Thieves to be a group to welcome the lonely who have no one else and no place to belong. A group that fosters redemption and genuineness. That gives each other a home. Is that not what we are?"

In their faces, I see that they know I'm right. Yet for an agonizingly long time, no one replies. "Are you calling us . . . hypocrites?" Makoto finally asks.

"We have been since we used him to thwart Shido's plan to set us up, despite knowing that he was part victim too," I snap, earning more whispers, yet I do not let that stop me. "And I refuse to act like I condoned that any longer," I say firmly. "Why is it possible for all of you to be so supportive of everyone else, just not of him?"

"I mean, he did . . . cause all of those mental shutdowns, right? That's worse than anything any of us others did." On Ryuji's face, I see that even he himself isn't convinced of his own argument.

"That's true," I say somberly. "Yet I always think that the extremities of his mistakes actually say a lot about just how much he had to have been hurt." Then I lift my eyes to look directly at my friends. "But more importantly, he's owned up to what he's done. Or, he's trying."

"Right . . . He's fighting Dr. Maruki despite knowing that he'll be in custody again after we've won . . ." Ann adds.

"Not despite—because," I say firmly. "Because it's the free thing to do. The right thing. And I think that . . ." I take a deep breath. "I mean, redeeming people is what we do. Usually against their will, but . . . some also do it themselves. Futaba did, and Sae, and . . ."

"And . . . Akechi too?" Ann asks, her eyes widening.

I nod. "He didn't even need us to do much besides fight him . . . and tell him to face the truth. He did that all on his own." And none of you cared or even noticed . . . I do not add. Not, He will keep thinking of himself as unlovable until someone loves him, either. "He doesn't see his own growth or his goodness, so he'll keep acting unlikable." I grit my teeth. "But that doesn't make his intentions any less admirable. Shouldn't we reward that? Support that?" Why do you even need me to tell you this? I almost add.

No one replies. I can see that they know I'm right, yet I can also see that they need time to think all of this over, at least. And no matter how much I want to, I don't press them any further.

However, when we agree to part ways and my friends leave shortly thereafter, I still can't help but feel hopeful. Because, despite everything, I have an inkling that I've made more ground today in filtering through this bad blood than I have in the entire time since Akechi's return.

The only weight that clings to my heart, still attempting to drown it in despair, is what I'm going to do about Akechi himself. I have tried not to think about it so far, yet when I find myself alone, with only Morgana looking up at me as though he knows my pain, it crashes back into me without warning.

Just leave me alone.

"Hey Rin, don't worry about them being mad at you. I really think they meant it when they said they don't mind you being more assertive," Morgana tries to assure me, but I shake my head. Just this once, that wasn't the fear paralyzing me.

Morgana approaches me, looking up at me skeptically. "They know you're right," he says. "It's all just . . . personal reservations that hold them back. I'm personally all for being more understanding. Maybe you're having a good influence on me; who knows?"

Only upon those words do I muster a smile.

> "You don't think the gap between us is insurmountable?"

"There's no "solving" this issue though . . ."

"Between the Phantom Thieves and Akechi—or between the two of you?" Morgana asks, and I shrug. Both, honestly.

"Well . . ." I finally allow him to hop into my bag and begin making my way toward the subway and home. "I might've said "maybe", once upon a time. But since it's you, I'm gonna say this instead: Nothing is insurmountable if you work hard and believe earnestly. And the way I know you, you always do. Just don't give up hope, okay?"

I halt at the entrance to the subway station to give Morgana my most sincere smile. Give up hope . . . Ha. Not even if the gods themselves came out of their depths to tell me.

***

Even knowing fully well that it's pointless, I continue to pace back and forth in my room. It's been hours since my friends and I parted ways, and so far, I've distracted myself by helping Sojiro out, but he closed up shop over half an hour ago. I'm supposed to be in bed, and yet . . .

"Why don't you just call him? You won't be able to calm down until this is resolved anyway, will you?" Morgana asks from his usual spot on my windowsill, and I make a face because he saw right through me.

"He told me to leave him alone . . ."

> "I don't want to pressure him more . . ."

"You're afraid to alienate him further if you make the first move now, hm?"

I nod, finally sitting on my bed and blowing out an exasperated breath. Deep down, I think Akechi knows that I don't mean to control or use him. My heart aches with the truth that I must really be the . . . only one who has ever loved him unconditionally. And he needs to feel that I'm his own choice, I think. But didn't I already give him that?

"You're not hurt by what he said, are you?" Morgana asks unexpectedly. "The . . . accusations, I mean. I know that you told the truth about why you fought Shido. But . . ." Before he can even finish, I vehemently shake my head, and Morgana sighs. "This is gonna take a while to get through to him, hm?"

I nod this time, opening my mouth to explain in brief words what I think I've deduced about his inability to trust, only to be startled by my phone going off.

I change into my pajamas and spend a while sitting on my bed, following the ensuing conversation in the group chat. It's Sumire, extending thanks.

YOSHIZAWA: I'd just like to thank everyone for letting me join the team. I'm glad to be here!

> I'll do my best to pull my weight!

"At least I know I've made the right choice with Sumire," Morgana chimes in. "I've got an eye for talent."

I only nod absent-mindedly, wondering if my friends have yet told her the truth about Akechi and why things between us are so complicated.

HARU: We're happy to have you!

ANN: Yeah, welcome!

> But you can loosen up a little, okay? Don't worry about being so formal!

YOSHIZAWA: I'm sorry! I'll try to address that in the future!

FUTABA: Still sounds pretty dang stiff to me.

YOSHIZAWA: A thousand pardons!

YUSUKE: And now she sounds like some kind of samurai.

RYUJI: Hey, either way, we got another teammate now! That's awesome!

MAKOTO: Indeed.

I have to set my phone aside for a moment and take a few deep breaths. They're all being so warm and welcoming . . . just as Sumire deserves. But then I peek at my screen again—at Akechi's dark icon next to hers—and have to suppress dread.

Why can they not show just a fraction of this warmth to him as well? Why is he still on the outside, despite being here with us again? Why can we not . . . I swallow hard, yet it does little for the lump in my throat. He's here again, forced to watch someone else receive what he never has—and thinks he never will. Will he ever?

RIN: Every new teammate is an enrichment.

MAKOTO: My words exactly.

> It's been so long since we've had one. It was about time.

> Either way, we're glad to have you, Yoshizawa-san.

YOSHIZAWA: Well, as long as we're dropping the formalities . . .

> You don't have to bother with the honorifics. If it's okay, I'd like everyone to just call me Sumire . . .

MAKOTO: If you're sure. In that case, I'll change the display name too.

> And once again, welcome to the team, Sumire.

SUMIRE: Thank you!

> Oh, and about tomorrow—are we all going to that Mementos place? (I think that was the name?)

YUSUKE: That's an option.

> But we still have plenty of time.

> We don't need to attempt an infiltration if we're not wholly prepared.

RYUJI: Yeah, that's our leader's call!

> Speaking of Rin, you're, uh . . . not mad at us, are you?

HARU: Huh?

> Did something happen?

MAKOTO: We had a conversation after you guys left . . .

> Maybe we should tell the others, Rin.

RIN: Please tell everyone what we talked about . . .

> And we should tell Sumire about our history with Akechi as well.

RYUJI: Oh, yeah . . .

MAKOTO: We should, yes.

> But, on that note, you are not really angry with us, are you?

RIN: I'm not, don't worry.

> All I'm asking is for a little more open-mindedness.

FUTABA: Okay, guys, what did we miss?

I lower my phone and watch as Makoto and Ryuji explain to Yusuke, Haru, Sumire, and Futaba what happened in front of the Palace.

On that note, they also reveal the truth about Akechi's former affiliation with Shido—his father—and his history, although Makoto keeps her account of this decently brief. I have to interject a number of times to assure that he is no longer one of the bad guys, and we describe the events that transpired in Shido's engine room, then on Christmas.

MAKOTO: Either way, we figured you should know if you are to be one of us.

SUMIRE: That's so much to take in . . .

> But also, I find it difficult to doubt his sincerity if what you said is really true.

MAKOTO: It wasn't our intention to make you doubt him.

ANN: We aren't doubting him either!

FUTABA: Yeah, he's chill now.

HARU: Indeed. I cannot say that it is a bad turn of events at all.

RIN: He risked his life for us, in the end.

SUMIRE: That . . . actually makes his rejection of Dr. Maruki so much more impressive.

> And there I was . . .

RYUJI: Dude, you don't have to beat yourself up over that now.

> It's all in the past.

> What matters is that you're here now!

RIN: Is that so . . .

RYUJI: Huh??

MAKOTO: I believe she is calling you a hypocrite again.

SUMIRE: Wait, does Akechi-san not have access to this chat?

RYUJI: Yeah, but he's not on right now.

> Would be surprised if he were, after storming off like that.

SUMIRE: I hope he's feeling well . . .

FUTABA: If you guys really told him that he's not doing enough when he's already doing all he can, I doubt it.

RYUJI: What do you mean, "all he can"?

FUTABA: These things aren't so easy, you know!!

> Trusting others, that is.

> Or even trusting yourself.

> Something can seem so simple and logical, but your brain tells you that it's not true anyway.

YUSUKE: It takes time to unlearn such preconceptions when you've been living in an environment that reinforced them for so long . . .

FUTABA: Lots of time.

> And lots of help, too!

> Remember when I couldn't even go outside or see other people without that doll head mask?

ANN: It was cute, though!

> But . . . you're right.

FUTABA: Saying that to him is like saying to me that only facing people with that mask wasn't good enough.

> Or saying that only being inside Leblanc wasn't good enough and that I'm not really making progress until I go out into a crowd.

> Like facing people normally is the "bare minimum" for being one of you guys.

ANN: But you weren't ready for that, so soon after giving up being a shut-in . . .

FUTABA: Exactly!!

I find myself smiling widely at the screen. She's explained it in a way that I didn't have words for, and . . . finally, it seems as though the others might understand.

FUTABA: You guys helped me get over my fears . . .

> I think what Rin's trying to say is that Akechi needs that too.

RYUJI: Uh . . .

YUSUKE: Is that what you're trying to do, Rin?

RIN: That's exactly it.

> He's never experienced unconditionality or genuine companionship.

> What reason does he have to believe they exist without being shown?

SUMIRE: That's really sad . . .

ANN: Yeah . . .

> Maybe we really did go too far, earlier.

HARU: I genuinely hope that your attempt at showing him works out, Rin.

> He seems like he really needs it.

MAKOTO: I agree.

I lower my phone for one moment, unable to ignore that they are singling me out in a way that makes it clear I'll be alone in this. I make a face, but in the end, I don't ask.

RYUJI: Anyway, uh . . . We were saying something about Mementos.

> Are we going or not?

MAKOTO: That's still up to Rin . . .

RYUJI: Whaddaya say, leader?

I can't help but stare at the screen for a few seconds, only then really processing that this is how it always goes whenever a decision has to be made. Didn't I try to tell them earlier, that I want no special treatment?

RIN: Why don't we decide together for once?

MAKOTO: Huh?

RYUJI: Don't we all technically do that unanimous vote thing anyway?

YUSUKE: Do you mean we should text you when we'll be available?

SUMIRE: I can do that!

RIN: Please feel free to.

> I'll always have your backs, but I meant it when I said I don't like special treatment.

> And being asked for every choice like this feels a little like you want me to command you.

YUSUKE: I would not mind being commanded by a beautiful woman, such as yourself.

> I mean, by our leader!!

FUTABA: !!

RYUJI: Dude . . .

> I mean, I can kinda see why, but also . . .

ANN: Ugh . . .

FUTABA: I hope you know that we're gonna make note of that as potential information to use against you, Inari.

YUSUKE: I misspoke . . .

HARU: No, you did not.

I barely catch the rest of that conversation because I almost keel over with laughter, nearly dropping my phone in the process.

"Uh, Yusuke is hopeless sometimes," Morgana mumbles, and I laugh again. "You're not even the particularly commanding type . . . are you?"

I stifle a giggle, shaking my head. I value cooperation above all else. Although I do think of myself as . . . Well, maybe not commanding, but at least . . . taking the initiative. I'm used to being the one to approach others and attempt to get closer. I've never been one for sitting around and waiting to be approached or invited when there's something I want either.

When something matters, you act, so I've been taught. This philosophy served me well . . . Until it got me sued and earned me a year of probation. Well . . . I shrug, giving Morgana a smirk. Even that didn't turn out so badly in the end.

"Eh . . . yeah, I'm not gonna ask for more details," Morgana then says, and my eyes suddenly widen. "Keep all that to yourself, or I'll never be able to unhear it."

I open my mouth to tell him that he completely misunderstood that . . . then shut it again as it dawns on me that . . . I may have been the one who misunderstood. Did Yusuke mean—?

"Either way," Morgana changes the topic—to my immeasurable relief. "That thing Futaba said is true, isn't it? That's why you're not hurt or offended."

I nod.

"All of this is new to him, huh?" Morgana says pensively. Then he shakes his head. "Well, however that will turn out, I'm glad we've got more people on the team now. Especially since our target this time is so much more powerful than any we've faced so far."

I nod again, and when Morgana shortly thereafter heeds to sleep, I crawl under my sheets, quickly saying good night to my friends. It's getting late, and . . . I usually call him, around this time of the night, I think and watch my phone lay on my mattress silently.

It does not go off again that night, and I toss and turn for hours because of it.