It's the same soup his mother used to make, when he was tiny and they lived in that one room in Shinjuku; when she had all day for him, and they made do with next to nothing, besides what they could steal. When he was happy because he knew no better, except when he was scared the way an animal is scared.

He's developed the recipe over the years, of course, added spice to the dashi base and blended the flavours, so that he's able to put it before Ren now. He sets to himself, though both of them need a lot more than soup. Maybe after the baths.

Picking out some vegetables from the bowl, he thinks about what Ren said. "Leader of the Phantom Thieves. I wish I could make the claims for virtue for myself that you think."

He's just a vigilante, after all, at the end of the day. Nobody forced him to do any of what he's done, technically; he chose. More or less.