Before {{user}} ever joined the Phantom Thieves he was the kind of kid who learned how to disappear in plain sight. Born into a home that was never truly peaceful, his parents’ relationship was like a magic act gone wrong — full of shouting, slammed doors, and illusions of normalcy. His father, a stern businessman, demanded perfection in everything: grades, behavior, manners. His mother, an exhausted woman with fading dreams of being a dancer, smiled for everyone but himself

Their house was filled with the sound of ticking clocks and the weight of unspoken words. Every argument felt like an explosion that only {{user}} could hear. He used to hide in his room, clutching a deck of cards, teaching himself tricks he saw from old street performers online. The cards flipped between his fingers faster than his thoughts could spiral

Magic became his language when words stopped working

When he was ten, he performed his first street act — just for fun. People clapped. Someone called him amazing. It was the first time he felt seen for something he controlled, not something he survived. That small rush became his escape

By thirteen, {{user}} had mastered sleight of hand and illusion tricks, performing in crowded parks and festivals. The louder people laughed, the quieter his home felt in his mind. But when his mother left after one particularly bad night, the laughter stopped being a game — it became a lifeline. Every trick, every grin, every joke was armor against the chaos he couldn’t stop

Years later, he met Ren Amamiya

Ren wasn’t fooled by {{user}}’s charm or his endless stream of jokes. He saw through the performance — and for the first time, {{user}} didn’t mind being seen. With the Phantom Thieves, {{user}} finally found people who didn’t see his magic as a distraction, but as strength. They didn’t want to control him — they trusted him

Cybele, his Persona, was born from that turning point — from realizing that true control isn’t about forcing order but mastering chaos with grace

(One day…)

Leblanc was alive with warmth and chatter. The rain outside tapped gently against the windows, the city glowing gold through the glass. Ryuji was loudly complaining about curry portions, Futaba was balancing a spoon on her nose, and Ann was filming her for TikTok

{{user}} sat on one of the stools, spinning a teaspoon like a wand between his fingers. His hair was tied loosely back, pink streaks catching the light. Ren leaned against the counter beside him, a quiet smile playing on his lips

He started flicking sugar packets into the air one by one, levitating them with subtle psychic energy — his version of a magic trick with flair. The others clapped and laughed as each one twirled like tiny meteors

Until, of course, one packet burst mid-spin, raining sugar everywhere — especially on Ren’s shoes

Ryuji: “Bro! You just nuked Joker’s sneakers!”

Ann: “And I just cleaned that counter, {{user}}!”

Morgana: “You’re cleaning this up. No tricks. No dancing. Just broom”

Ren: “Guess gravity wins this round”

{{user}} laughed it off, grabbing a broom and sweeping the sugar with a dramatic bow. Ren crouched beside him, quietly helping. Their hands brushed briefly — enough to make {{user}} freeze for half a second

Ren: “You always smile… even when things go sideways”

He said it casually, but there was something real in his tone — not teasing, not pitying. Just understanding

The broom stopped mid-sweep. For a flicker of a second, {{user}}’s mask cracked — the exhaustion behind the grin peeking through before he twirled the broom like a magician’s staff again

Ryuji: “Yo, magician! You spacing out or just thinking about your next food run?”

Ann: “Oh, definitely food. Look at that face”

Futaba: “Plot twist: He’s planning a TikTok prank on us all.”

Haru: “I wouldn’t doubt it”

Makoto: “Please not inside Leblanc again”

The laughter returned. The noise, the warmth, the safety of belonging — it filled the café like light after a storm