Faith.

[Ren, Carinna]

Ren unlocked the door on 'his' side of the apartment he shared with Carinna and silently slipped inside, attempting to be as quiet as possible.

He'd been out late, after all, and didn't want to risk disturbing her. The boxer slipped out of his shoes. Hung up his jacket. Heading into the dark afforded him by his empty living room, the husband sank into an empty chair and dropped his head into his hands.

But quiet or not, Carinna had been up late, poring over case studies and countless research materials she'd dug up about the politics she'd married into. It was all she really seemed to do these days, with a husband who was gone more often than not.

Research. Self-educate. Master. Replicate.

The click of the door, soft as it might've been, was loud enough to bring her out of her study, padding across the ridiculously large space that was more empty than it was filled that they had of a living room, in order to reach Ren, who she settled down next to.

"Rough day?"

"Yeah," Ren replied softly, the answer almost lost between his fingers. "You could say that."

He sat up, glancing over at his wife -- taking in her attire to assure himself he had not, in fact, woken her. "You're up late."

"It's not that late. And it's not like I have to wake up early to do anything, anyway. I've just been researching for a while, learning all I can about just what I've gotten myself into. Might as well be prepared," Carinna responded, reaching over to tenderly brush aside a lock of hair out of the philosopher's eyes. "Wanna tell me what's wrong? You look like someone ran over your dog a few times or something."

"I never told you why we came back, did I?" Ren asked, quietly reaching for her hand and pressing a kiss to the first knuckle. In the frenzy of activity he'd found himself thrown back into, the chance, somehow, had just slipped by.

"No, but I figured it wasn't something you could tell me. I've seen the Godfather enough times to know how this kinda shit normally flows, so I wasn't gonna pry." But that didn't mean she wasn't willing to listen, because Carinna most definitely was. Information, after all, of any kind -- especially if it concerned her husband -- would be the key to understanding the world she was now a part of.

"In short, Kazuki's younger brother was a traitor and the oyabun had him killed." Ren said quietly -- delivering a one line summary that entirely left out his involvement in trying to save the kid's life. "That was the extent of the call I received. Kazuki's a bit of a mess -- and he's my best friend, so..."

"...Jesus." And she had only thought that this kind of shit happened in movies. Her expression didn't change much -- regardless of how fast her thoughts had begun to move. "...So what does this mean for you?"

"Carinna," Ren murmured quietly, "...you've known me for less than a month. And that's hardly the amount of time I should give you -- but this is one of those points where one of your questions -- its answer, that is, becomes a fundamental problem."

The philosopher paused; sucked in a breath.

"I need to know how much I can trust you. And how much you are willing to risk."

For a moment, there was nothing but stillness as Carinna considered her options -- and what the hypothetical warning might be held over. She'd watched enough movies to know that when such a warning was in place, regardless of circumstance, nothing good was going to come out of it. And it was, in the end, better to be prepared than to be in the dark. "...Ren, we're married. And sharing the same bed. I'd say trust really shouldn't be an issue at this point."

"Even when there are things at play which you could not even tell your family, Carinna?" Ren asked, very softly. "Your brother?"

He tried to smile, reaching up to gently touch the side of her face, caressing a soft cheek with the tips of his fingers. "...think about it, at least. I won't be offended by what you decide, ne."

There really wasn't much to think about, though. Carinna lifted her eyes to him, resolutely. "They lost my trust the moment they chose to decide the rest of my life for me. As far as I'm concerned, you're the only person I can trust right now. I can't even trust my own brother completely, who fucking lied to me his entire life, pretty much. Which is pretty fucked up, if you ask me."

"That's brave of you, I suppose...they tried to do a good thing, your brother and your father. I respect them for it." Ren said quietly. "We -- Kazuki and I -- went against orders and attempted to save Tadashi's life by getting him out of the country, and we failed. Nothing's happened yet, but please understand that I suspect things could go very badly, very soon." He turned, nuzzling a little into the curve of her shoulder. "When that happens, I'll tell you everything. I want to make sure you're safe -- and I think the best way for that to happen is for you to be informed."

"Does that mean that they know you guys went against orders and that you're in trouble?" Concern filtered across her features as Carinna reached for Ren's hand, locking their fingers together, giving her an excuse to move closer.

"No. They don't. I don't want to be too positive, but I don't believe they'll find out." Ren replied quietly, gently squeezing the hand in his own. "That, at least, should be okay."

"Is it really going to be okay?" Carinna whispered, curling up against her husband as she raised her head to press a soft kiss against his jawline. It was to be expected -- that dangerous political arenas would eventually have to be entered for the purpose of advancement in the ring.

Ren slipped his arms around her, making a silent vow to keep, at least, this one woman safe from the maelstrom that was sure to come. From what would follow, if Kazuki left; if Ren kept his word.

"I don't know, Carinna." He whispered, nuzzling into the sheen and shine of her hair. "But I will do my best to make it so."

"Okay. Well, regardless of what, you have my support, one hundred percent of it." She murmured, cleaving to his warmth, wondering if this kind of a life would ever, for even a moment, know a piece of preconceived "normality" taken for granted by others, or if it'd ever just be smoke and screens and everything in between.

Two months ago, anyone crazy enough to predict that Takahashi Ren would find himself clinging to the threads of his happiness and his sanity in a marriage he hadn't wanted to begin with would have been laughed at.

But two months ago, Tadashi was alive. And the Yamaguchi-gumi was whole.

"...thank you."

"You don't have to."

"It doesn't matter," he whispered, in the safety of their living room. "I want to."