And he looks at the picture on the last page, trying to stuff up the hollow inside him with resentment and rage. It doesn't work, so he just smiles. Ren dances before his eyes, bright and yes, beautiful, even with his face full of fish or planted in a crepe. Wrong Ren, but still a Ren, and it turns out Akechi hadn't scratched the surface of the tricks cognition plays.

"... why not." He pulls out his phone, offering it to tap. "Be warned, though—play tricks in my text messages and you'll find I more than match them." As Crow could testify.