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rune-writes · 2 years

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A Place Like Home

Fandom: Persona 5

Word count: 2937

Rating: G

Summary: Ren takes Ann to his hometown where she spends a day learning about him and his family.

Note: written for @thezinearcana's Shuann wedding zine: With the Stars & Us.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~

A home-made meal. That was something Ann rarely had in her twenty-something years of life. Her parents were rarely home. In the few times they were, their meals were still prepared by the housekeeper. Maybe there had been a time when her mother had cooked her a simple omelet before school, but that had been years before work took most of her time.

Such were the thoughts going through Ann’s mind when she beheld the lavish meal being prepared at the Amamiya household that morning. “Lavish” might be over-exaggerating it as there was only miso bubbling in a pot and pieces of mackerel grilling on a pan. But still lavish nonetheless when all Ann remembered of her breakfasts were only toasts and orange juice on a quiet table.

“Ah! Ann, you’re awake.” Flipping the mackerel to grill the other side, Yuko Amamiya broke into a bright smile. “Good morning. Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

Ann nodded, mumbling half-groggily as she moved closer to the stove. Spices distinctly Japanese wafted up from the pan.

“Do you always make such elaborate breakfasts?” she couldn’t help but ask.

“This is hardly elaborate,” Yuko said with a chuckle. “You just throw in a couple side dishes with your rice and voila, breakfast is served.”

Ann nodded, though it still looked elaborate to her. A sort of normal elaborate. One she would find in a normal household with a normal family having a normal meal. Ann couldn’t say she’d had a lot of those growing up.

“Is there something I can help with?” she asked then. She’d never had much opportunity to cook for Ren. If she could, maybe, pitch in with whatever Yuko needed to cook next, she’d kill two birds with one stone by having Yuko teach her all of Ren’s favorite childhood dishes.

But the cooking was almost done. Yuko asked if she would like to set the table. Ann tried not to let her dejection show, but despite her best efforts, her face might have betrayed her feelings, because then Yuko called and said:

“Or would you like to grill the next one?”

Ren’s mother was all smiles when she offered Ann to take the spatula.

***

“See? It’s not as hard as you think.”

Ann placed the last two quarters of mackerel into the waiting plate, feeling a sort of pride burning in her chest. Nothing burned. No smoke rising from the stove. She smiled at her accomplishment, more so when Yuko nodded her approval.

“The key is in the sake,” the older woman went on. She ladled the soup into bowls as Ann set the fish and side dishes on the dining table. “And salt. You can forgo the sake but not the salt. Coat the mackerels in sake first, then sprinkle salt over the sides. Wait twenty minutes, not too long, not too short. Then once all the water’s drawn out, pat the excess with a paper towel, and all you need to do is grill it—or fry it, whichever you choose—‘til it’s a nice crisp brown.”

Ann nodded and made a mental note of it. With the last dish set, they only needed to wait for Ren to wake up.

“Want to make breakfast together tomorrow?” Yuko added before Ren arrived. “I’m sure I can pass on some other easy-to-make family recipes which Ren would definitely love.”

Was it really that obvious? When Ann met her gaze and saw her wink, it was all she could do not to laugh.

***

Mackerels were a favorite of Ren’s. On the couple times Ann had tried grilling them for him, something had always gone wrong, whether it’d be the seasoning or accidentally burning it. With Yuko’s help, however, she’d learned just how Ren liked them. And now seeing the most blissful beam Ann had ever seen bloom across his face, her own lips spread into a smile as her cheeks burned bright with delight.

“So, how do you like them?” Yuko nonchalantly asked.

All Ren could do was nod and mumble, “The best,” through a mouthful of fish and rice.

Yuko grinned. “I didn’t make it, though.”

Ren blinked, then swallowed, tilting his head to the side to ask, “What—” but he couldn’t even finish before Ann cut him off:

“I did.”

His gaze found hers. He blinked a couple more times. “You did?”

“Yep. How does it taste?”

The way Ren blinked again as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing… Her grin stretched wider.

“Is it really so good it made you speechless?”

She’d meant it as a joke—half a joke—but Ren’s eyes widened with wonder. She did not expect him to answer so honestly.

“To think I’d mistake your cooking with mom’s.” His gray eyes crinkled with delight. “Since when did you know how to cook?”

Heat crept up her neck. Ann cleared her throat as she brought a rolled egg to her plate. “It’s nothing much, though. Your mom did most of the prep work.”

“But Ann did all the cooking herself,” Yuko chimed in.

“Just the one you ate,” Ann pointed out to Ren, “which I could only have accomplished thanks to your mom’s guidance.”

Yuko laughed. “Please, Ann, you could’ve still overcooked or undercooked it, but you didn’t.”

“That’s because—”

“What is this friendly mother-daughter banter?” Ren said with a chuckle. “Did I miss something?”

His interruption prompted Ann and Yuko to share a glance, and both broke into snorts and laughter.

“A daughter, huh?” Yuko said afterwards. She played around with the last piece of her mackerel. When she lifted her gaze to Ann, the warmth Ann felt would have lasted her for an entire winter. “It’d be nice if I could call you my daughter someday.”

Maybe it was a given, seeing how long she and Ren had been together. But to hear his mother say it…

A future with Ren and the Amamiya household…

Beneath the table, Ren’s hand found hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Someday.

She looked at him and smiled.

***

When Ren had invited her to visit his mother, it had come without preamble, she couldn’t help asking if his mother was alright.

“My mother’s quite fine, I assure you,” he’d said with a light laugh. “I just thought it’s been a while since you two last met.”

He was right in that regard. It’d probably been a year or two since Ren invited his mother to Tokyo. He’d had a sudden assignment then that it’d fallen to her to keep Yuko company.

“Such a hard worker, isn’t he?” Yuko had said while they’d been out shopping.

For others, the fact that their son was a hard worker should have been a source of pride. Yuko, however, seemed to think otherwise with the way her brows had drawn back when she’d spoken about it. “He’s very much like his father,” was all she’d said. But Ren had always been proud of his father. Yuko hadn’t elaborated further.

Now they stood side by side by the sink with Yuko washing the dishes and Ann setting them on the rack to dry. Ren had left to take a call from his boss.

“What are your plans for today?” Yuko asked.

“Just a walk around town,” Ann said. “Ren’s keeping our itinerary confidential for some reason.”

“Ah.”

A nod of understanding. Ann glanced at the older woman.

“Do you know something?”

“Oh, you know how he is. He likes his surprises.”

Like a certain someone, Ann thought, shooting Yuko with a playful smirk. Yuko might have read her mind, because she looked at Ann and snickered.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, announcing Ren’s return even before he appeared at the door. Judging from the frown murking his countenance, that phone call had probably not held any good news, as evident by the words that followed when he opened his mouth:

“I’m really sorry about this, but could we push our plans a bit until the afternoon? My boss just doesn’t know when to leave me alone.”

Well, there was nothing they could do about that, especially not when Ren looked so apologetic. “Sure,” Ann said with a nod. God knew how many times he’d had to compromise when her work suddenly called her away, even back before they’d started dating, which had only grown more frequent once she became a full-time model. “I can keep your mother company in the meantime.”

The relief pouring out of him was almost palpable. “I’ll try to finish this as soon as I can.” He was gone not a moment later, and Ann heard the distant closing of a door shortly after.

“Still working hard, isn’t he,” Yuko mused, “even on his day off.”

Again, that quiet concern. The grayness of Yuko's eyes looked dim and distant; the plate she'd been washing lay forgotten in her grasp.

“Yuko-san,” Ann began. “Did something happen to Ren’s father?”

Yuko blinked before slowly meeting Ann’s gaze. Her lips pulled to a little dismissive smile, but Ann refused to break her stare. After a few silent moments, the older woman conceded, sighing through her nose and turning off the tap water.

“Have Ren told you about his father?”

He had. His father had died when Ren was fourteen. An upstanding and respectable man—he’d been a journalist, too, and was one of the reasons Ren decided to pursue the same career. Yuko listened in silence with occasional nods. When Ann finished her recount, Yuko smiled.

“Ren did have the most respect for his father,” she said.

“Is that wrong?”

“No, no, not wrong. His father was a man worthy of respect. Kind, gentle, but also passionate and strong. Trusted by his peers and neighbors alike.” Yuko's lips pursed thin. “He was framed while investigating a case.”

Ten years Ann had known Ren, and this was the first time she had heard about this.

“An accident, they said. Silenced, more like it. He was an adamant sort. He would not rest until his targets were brought to justice.” The older woman glanced at Ann, whose mouth had hung slightly open in shocked silence. “Much like someone we know, don’t you think?”

Very much so. Relentless, resolute, unyielding. And yet, it was that steadfast presence that had drawn her to him in the first place. Like a moth to a flame, captivated and spellbound, until she realized how deep she had fallen for him.

The tap water ran for a couple more minutes, their hands working efficiently even as their minds wandered. Once all the dishes were washed and the kitchen was clean, Yuko leaned against the sink, exhaling a long, breathy sigh.

“Like father, like son,” the older woman went on quietly. “That’s what they said when they convicted him of assault.” One corner of her lips curled in disdain, her face a picture of contempt. But the anger quickly dissipated, leaving her with nothing but weak resignation. “It is precisely because he is his father’s son that he worries me at times.”

***

Birds cawed in the distance, their silhouettes stark black against the light. A rush of wind brought a faint smell of fish intermingled with the scent of trees and generally fresh air. Beside her, Ren tugged at their intertwined hands, breaking their long, yet tranquil, silence.

“What did you talk about with my mom?”

She glanced at him, noting the curiosity gleaming in his eyes. He looked so much like his mother. The same jet-black hair. The same deep gray eyes. And while Ren’s face might be sharper on certain angles, there was a distinct softness to it, like the crinkle of his eyes whenever he smiled, the way his mother had looked when Ann promised she would look after her son.

Don’t tell him about this, Yuko had said. He knows I worry, but I’d rather not have him sacrifice his dreams just to appease my concerns.

Her lips tugged into a smirk. “A secret.”

“Cheeky,” he said, pinching her cheeks. Ann’s shoulders trembled with quiet laughter as she softly slapped his hand away.

They reached a hilltop park, where families were still having picnics even though the sun had gone past its zenith. A man stood hunched, taking a picture of his wife and children sitting on their picnic blanket. On the other side, a woman and her daughter were having a meal on a bench.

“I’ve always wondered why people make such a big deal about ‘mom’s cooking,’” Ann began. The little girl at the bench laughed when her mother pointed at a stray cream sauce on her cheek. Ann smiled. “I know now.” A warm and lively atmosphere—watching his mother fuss over him had been enough to fill her heart with joy. It had felt like home.

Ann watched the little girl dash from her mother’s seat, her face split into an ear-to-ear grin. Could she ever give her child a beautiful memory, she wondered, devoid of the loneliness she had felt during her childhood? Like Yuko, who had raised Ren to be the man he was now despite all the hardships she had had to face alone.

“You have such a strong mother, Ren,” she whispered. “I wonder if I could be strong like her.”

She felt his glance, felt the tightening of his fingers around hers. “You’re already plenty strong yourself, Ann,” came his murmur. When her eyes flitted upward, they were greeted by the most tender smile that made her heart flutter. “But you can. And you will."

Wordlessly, he led away, past the father taking pictures and mother watching her daughter play. She asked where they were going, but Ren refused to give a straight answer. “You’ll see,” he said, accompanied by occasional grins that always meant she was in for a surprise. “You'll love it.”

A secluded set of winding stairs waited for them at the other side of the park, littered with the thin remaining frost of the thawing winter. Up and up they climbed, her curiosity quickly escalating when a red torii gate came into view.

A gasp escaped her lips unbidden when she beheld the small garden nestled at the top. A lone plum tree stood at the center of a stone pavement, its branches adorned by various shades of pink and white in full bloom.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

The chill of the late winter air and the silence that permeated the ground gave the place a serene, magical feeling. She was wondering why Ren had brought her there when his tug prompted her to follow his line of sight. Ann turned around, then found that she couldn’t breathe.

Standing at the very top of a hill, the town spread beneath her like a lady’s skirt. Brown rooftops jutted out of the ground among the greens and grays with no skyscrapers to be seen, and far on the water bank, boats are docked on a pier.

They were so high, so far from the hustle and bustle of human activity. Her heart expanded and soared as tears stung her eyes.

“This was where my father proposed.” The wind carried his soft, pensive voice to her ears. “Right here. Twenty-seven years ago.”

The realization hit her like a van.

Do you know something? She’d asked his mother.

Oh, you know how he is. He likes his surprises.

Of all the surprises she would have guessed, this was not one of them.

Her head snapped up. What sorrow had colored his features was now replaced by a firmness in his jaws and certainty in his eyes. Ann swallowed her nervousness and begged her heart to settle.

Ren adjusted his grip on her hand. “I know how much I’ve worried my mother,” he began, “how much I’ve worried you.” His thumb lightly grazed her knuckles. “But we’ve stayed by each other’s side through thick and thin, and if you’re willing, I’d like to ask you to stick with me ‘til the end.”

Her breath hitched when he withdrew a small red box coming out of his pocket. He opened the lid and glittering little diamonds flashed before her eyes.

“We’ll make the family you’ve always wanted, the home you deserve.”

Ren plucked the heart-shaped ring from its cushion before slipping it to her finger. The way it fit so perfectly, so snugly, almost made her cry.

“So, what do you say, Ann?” Ren went on, his hand never leaving hers. The smile he wore almost broke her heart with how precious it was. “Will you marry me?”

She’d always wanted this—always dreamed of it. A proposal on a candle-lit dinner or beneath the Eiffel Tower during one of her modeling gigs. But she’d never expected something as personal as this.

And yet… it suited him. It suited them. The setting sun painted his profile a golden hue.

“I promised your mother I’ll look after you,” she said. Her ring gleamed under the light. “I mean to keep that promise.” Her breath shuddered; a tear rolled down her face. She met his eyes and gave him the best smile she could muster. “I’ll marry you, Ren Amamiya, if you’ll have me.”

The way joy exploded across his features was something she could not describe. Pure, unadulterated elation as he shouted and laughed, pulling her off the ground and swinging her around. Her cry of surprise was cut short when his mouth covered hers.

“I love you, Ann,” he whispered.

Like father, like son. Ann wondered how Yuko would react when she learned where his son had just proposed to her.

Ann threw her arms around him, her face a picture of rapture.

I love you, too.

~ END ~

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