Chamomile:

The room was warm. It smelled like a mixture of scents I recognized from the summers that I had spent with my father during my childhood. Cigarette smoke - the cheaper, acrid cigarettes - was the undertone. Then there was the smell of vanilla air-freshener, and the smells of freshly prepared yellow curry. Overlaid upon that was a smell that I never would have associated with my childhood. The smell of Dojima's cologne. He had a bottle of that expensive, clean, spicy stuff. He didn't but it himself. I knew it had been a gift from his deceased wife. He seldom wore it; only a drop, and only on the days when he felt like he needed a sense of her presence the most.

He'd worn it to the station today. It was barely detectable, and no one else would have noticed it save for his daughter maybe. I always noted the variations in my partner. I find him interesting, somehow. It was clear that he'd worn the cologne due to a heightened sensation of loneliness. His eyes were just that slight bit darker than usual. That sweet, murky sable color that I truly appreciated. That no one else could ever appreciate in quite the same way.

He was shy when he'd asked me to dinner; that was a more obvious sign of his distress. Dojima was seldom shy around me. More often he donned that irritating, commanding tone of voice that I was accustomed to hearing from my superiors. I felt a surge of pleasure in witnessing his discomfort. It was intoxicating, his vulnerability to me. I think that's why I agreed to having dinner at his house with his young daughter and his insolent nephew. I remembered to slip into my guise of "harmless incompetent" before speaking.

'Yeah, Dojima-San. I mean, I'd love to! I-is everything alright?'

His eyes flashed a livelier shade for a brief moment; I took the emotion for surprise. He didn't consider me to be the observant type. He shook it off.

'Mmm, nothing's wrong. I'm just a little tired is all. Anyways, I'll meet you outside after work and we'll drive down together if that's alright with you.'

I gave him a considerate nod and a soft smile before leaving to fetch him some coffee. Always the eager-to-please younger partner. His expression was gentle as he met me outside the station that evening.

Dojima's home held a unique atmosphere for me. I hadn't counted on recalling my past experiences through the homey scents embedded in his furniture and walls, for one thing. For another, I was perturbed by the concept of him using me as a half-assed replacement for his wife's company. Still, I knew his nephew's cooking to be of considerable quality from the boxed lunches he occasionally left for Dojima at the station on days when the man had clearly forgotten to pack food as he hastily left for work. Dojima was a generous person, and he barely ever had a real appetite.

They had set up the kotatsu, and it warmed my feet as I stood near the table waiting for Nanako to come downstairs. Dojima smiled fondly as Souji stirred a pot of the thick, savory curry. The boy's face was plain and amiable, as per usual. I could tell he felt a genuine joy in his task.

'I told Nanako that we'd all sit down and have a real dinner together tonight, and she wanted to wear the dress that Souji bought for her. She should be down in a couple minutes.'

I chuckled in a friendly manner and nodded my understanding. There was an odd feeling budding within my stomach as I listened to Dojima's soft conversation.

Nanako walked down the stairs slowly, and shyly. She seemed to want to keep her eyes from meeting mine directly. I smiled at her, and looked away quickly to make her feel more comfortable. Kids never seemed to like me much, and I figured it would be best if I didn't do anything to rouse her suspicions.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she immediately wandered over to where Souji was standing. He put the spoon he was stirring with down on an unlit ring and ruffled her hair, mussing up the pigtails considerably. She frowned and pushed his hand away before her own expression morphed into a giggly, pleasant one. I wasn't sure what to make of their interaction. Was Souji happy because she was wearing the dress he'd bought her? It was kind of a ridiculous frock, with all that baby pink. Still, maybe he was glad because it was a symbol of his familial possession of her?

'Ah, so that's the dress! It looks nice.' Dojima had a fond look in his eyes, but beneath that something more interesting was happening. Beneath that I could see...guilt?

'I went to Junes with Souji and his friends! Rise said it looked good.' Nanako was clearly trying to hold back a massive smile as she recalled her outing with that boy and his annoying friends.

'It does look good! Doesn't it, Adachi?' Oh, that's right, I was supposed to participate in their conversations.

'Yeah, it looks great!' I nodded. Souji looked at me then, and I thought he'd finally call me out for being the culprit behind his recent trials - a paranoid thought. However, a soft smile was given to me as a sign of genuine appreciation instead.

He really was an idiot.

It was because I was here, and doing this favor for Dojima that Souji was showing me his open gratitude. He knew the man was desperately lonely and that even his small, sweet daughter couldn't fill those darker places inside of him. He thought that I was trying to; at least by being a good friend. It was nearly comical.

We all moved to sit around the small table. Nanako turned the volume down on the television but clearly didn't want to turn it off altogether. I had the distinct impression that it was the comforting background noises of familiar programs and commercials that kept her from complete depression on those nights that Dojima came home late. No one told her to switch it off. There was an odd ache in my stomach that didn't feel quite like hunger. However, there was nothing else it could have been so I forced it to the back of my mind.