Title: Warmth for Winter
Rating: T
Summary: Oneshot. Naoto, for the most part, didn't like winter.
The fog that enveloped Inaba brought with it a frost like no other, sending the residents of the town diving under their blankets, resolving not to leave their beds until spring.
Naoto, despite her best efforts, was finding it hard not to follow suit.
Winters were always hard for her, living in a body she worked so hard to keep so tiny –tiny because otherwise, obscene curves might start to develop around her hips and thighs, more than puberty had already bestowed upon her and that just would not do.
So Naoto spent her winters dressed in layers, fleece tights under her pants and two extra layers of shirts beneath her jacket. Still, every time she ventured outside, she shivered in a way she could only describe as pitiful.
Before long, conversation became impossible because of her treacherous molars clattering against each other, and she realized she would have to admit to this very human, very feminine weakness or find a solution.
Naoto would sooner fight her way through an entire dungeon full of shadows before she would admit to such frailty.
She decided, reluctantly, after searching through the internet, looking up patterns, and learning the great Detective Prince could not so much as thread a needle, let alone operate a sewing machine, that she would have to ask for help.
Naoto showed up at Tatsumi Textiles with her cap pulled down low, tone even as she walked in, looking at the wares rather than Kanji's mother, who she knew would be managing the store front. She bit back the shivers threatening to shake her very core, mentally reminding herself to keep her voice monotone and calm. "Hello, I would like to inquire about–"
"Na-Naoto?" A much deeper, more masculine voice ripped through the air, like a resounding gunshot.
"O-oh …Kanji." She stuttered, her voice raising an embarrassing few octaves. A glance at her teammate let her know that he was blushing, wringing a helpless stuffed animal through his hands. "Is your mother here? I require her assistance."
"N-no, Ma's out. You just missed her." He managed, eyes darting wildly around the shop, trying to look at anything but her face, because Kanji had the tendency to stare once he started, right into those big, blue eyes and her thin lips and–
"Kanji, I believe you are about to decapitate that stuffed bear," she stated coolly, eying the emerging stuffing from a ripped seam around its neck.
"Oh, damn, I- I didn't mean to-" He quickly sat the toy down on the counter, inspecting its injury with utmost care.
Naoto stepped forward towards him, took the doll into her small hands, and turned it over a few times, maneuvering the stuffing back inside. "Your mother should be able to sew this up quite easily, don't be concerned."
At the sudden proximity, Kanji found himself taking two steps back from the counter, absentmindedly looking at some shelved fabric to distract himself from that face, that hair, those hands–
"Y-yeah," he muttered, "So whataya need? I'm sure you have important detective stuff 'ta do, so I could just write down what you need done and pass it on." Not that he wanted Naoto to leave –not at all. Just, he had learned that having the girl within ten feet of him for too long could cause a spontaneous, fiery explosion within himself, and he'd hate to mess up her immaculate appearance with his singed insides.
"Well," she began, "I was actually looking to have the work I need done immediately, if possible. I need some sort of an insert sewn into my jacket, as this is a very cold winter and my grandfather is concerned for my health. I am prepared to wait and pay extra for the services to be done in such short notice." Naoto shifted her weight a bit, uncomfortably. The idea of lying to Kanji did not sit well with her, but to divulge such a secret would mean instant destruction of any thread of manly presence she held in front of him. And although Kanji and the rest of the team knew her secret, in front of Kanji especially, she felt like she had to keep up a front that if she wasn't a man physically, she was at least one mentally.
"Um, my Ma will be gone for a while –she's going into the city to buy some fabric. But, um…" There was a long pause between his words, in which Kanji seemed to contemplate the entirety of his life before he opened and closed his mouth a few times, then finally spoke. "I-I could, um, do it instead."
Naoto tried to contain her surprise, but ended up staring at him for a few moments, wide eyed, before letting her features settle into a polite smile followed by a single nod. "Your mother taught you her trade, I presume?"
"U-uh, yeah," he stammered, staring back at her for a moment too long, sending a heated flush to both their cheeks. "I just –just did the same to my jacket." He nodded towards his shoulder, where a bit of brown fleece was shown, seamlessly sewn into his collar.
"How… coincidental. I suppose I am in luck, then," she said, composing herself, "Will you be able to take care of it today, or should I return another day?"
"I can, um, do it right now, I guess. I can close for an hour and take lunch."
"If that isn't a problem, I would appreciate it," she replied, looking down. It was a blow to her pride not to be able to do something so simple, so basic that every housewife could accomplish the task. She did not plan on admitting to Kanji that she was so inept with most womanly duties that she could not even sew a simple stitch, but that was beside the point. She was safe because Kanji was not the type for petty gossip or teasing, and that was mattered.
"The fleece is in my room. If you, ya know, don't mind going up there with me." The thought of being alone with Naoto in even a semi-confined space was too much; too, too much. But since Naoto insisted on staying in the shop while he altered the jacket, there wasn't much of a choice on his part. He'd just have to keep a good distance. Her on one side of the room, him on the other. Yeah. That would work.
"I suppose," she murmured, after waiting a moment to consider while Kanji went to flip the closed sign over on the door.
He swallowed and waved her over, past the counter. He held open the door behind it, a gesture that made heat rise to Naoto's cheeks and had her intently studying the design of Tatsumi living room after she passed him, mind fumbling with the possible intentions Kanji could have –he was male, after all, and men had a much higher sex drive than a majority of women, and they were alone, and– no, Kanji wasn't like that. She calmed herself with the thought and took a deep breath.
Kanji led his teammate up the stairs and down the hallway that led to his room, forcing awkward conversation that Naoto wasn't really picking up on –something about his room being messy and that he was sorry and promised if she ever wanted to come back it wouldn't look like it did now. She was more concerned with the fact it was getting increasingly colder as they ventured down the hallway, and she finally realized it was his room that was emanating such a terrible draft. Naoto shuttered at the thought of entering the place, resisting the urge to wrap her arms around herself.
"H-here we are." Kanji opened the door and Naoto looked in, discovering an open window. Two open windows, and at least a ten degree drop in temperature.
Naoto decided that this was some sick, twisted, reversed version of hell gone glacial made especially for her.
Kanji looked at her, and Naoto realized she had spent far too long just standing there, dumbstruck by the fact it was probably colder in Kanji's room than it was outside. And she didn't do dumbstruck, or anything dumb for that matter.
She hesitantly stepped inside, analyzing the room, and blinked a few times in surprise. It was clean –nearly flawless. She settled herself against a wall next to the two open windows, hoping to avoid the chill of the draft. An awkward silence entered the room, and Naoto shifted a bit and pulled the brim of her hat down over her eyes.
"I-I'll, uh, get the fleece!" Kanji nearly dove across the room, pulling a clear storage box filled with what appeared to be sewing supplies from next to his futon. He looked back up at her, caught her eye for a moment, then looked back down at the box full of fabric. "You can s-sit down, if you want. There's a chair at the desk."
Naoto looked at the desk for a moment, then above it. She would be placed directly in front of the window, the icy air mussing her hair and freezing her solid. "Kanji, may I ask, why are your windows open? Aren't you cold?"
"Cold? Nah. 'S like a freaking sauna in here; my Ma's old bones can't handle the winter, so she cranks the thermostat as high as it goes on days like this," he replied, fishing through the box and pulling out various supplies. "Oh, I n-need your jacket."
A shiver ran through her as a particularly cold gust blew into the room, and Naoto looked at the boy as if he had asked for her first born child. "M-my jacket?"
"Yeah? I need to sew the fleece in, remember?" Kanji held up the black fabric, folded into a square.
Naoto paused –if she gave up the jacket, she may die of hypothermia before it was returned to her but, if she were to allow him to take it, she may never be cold again.
That, and the apparent comfort of the fleece settled it.
"…Alright," she decided, shedding the jacket. She walked over to him, holding her coat out. Kanji grabbed it, avoiding her eyes, cursing as his shaking hands under his breath; he was having just as much trouble threading his needle as she was earlier.
Naoto looked over at the window and shivered. With a determined look on her face, she sat down on the futon, towards the other end, but close enough that Kanji could feel it shift as she sat down, felt himself tilt a bit towards the left from her weight making the cushion angle towards her.
He was pretty sure this qualified as close enough to cause his heart to implode.
Pricking his finger and uttering a curse, Kanji finally made the thread through the needle's eye and set to work, measuring and cutting the fabric with heavy-duty shears. Part of him was aware of Naoto, staring at his hands. His hands. His hands, which could hold her, touch her–
"Fuck," he uttered under his breath as he nearly slipped and cut a large piece out of the fleece. Naoto's eyes darted away the moment he spoke, settling on the rug.
Naoto was more than conscious of the cold in the room, but even more so of Kanji's warmth. Not that she hadn't noticed earlier, she had –many times, when she was standing or fighting next to him and they got too close or their clothes brushed or even their skin or– but now she could practically feel it from where she sat, and in her current state, it was tempting just to slide over to him and nestle herself next to that warm body and–
She decided that she must be getting a cold, or the fog truly was poisonous and had gone straight to her brain.
As if to disprove the latter idea, she could feel a tickle building in her chest and crawling up her throat. She tried to will it away, clenching both her fists in the fabric of her pants but–
The sneeze slipped out, more of a squeak than anything, and Naoto could feel her cheeks burn.
Kanji took a moment before he looked up from the jacket. "Did you just… sneeze?"
"Y-yes," she replied, a shiver attacking her frame with earthquake tremors when she had her guard down, and she went to counting the frayed threads on the edge of the rug.
Kanji shifted uncomfortably in the silence, and managed a few more stitches before he couldn't take hearing the soft clatter of Naoto's teeth when she shivered, or seeing her frame shake every time a gust sneaked into the room. He reached over the arm of the futon, grabbed a blanket and Naoto could suddenly feel the warmth getting closer– closer and suddenly it was there, on her shoulders and seeping down her arms.
They're both staring at each other, his hands still on her shoulders and Naoto's eyes are wide and her lips are parted just a little and, God, Kanji just wants to–
Naoto kisses him first.
The position is awkward and she doesn't exactly meet his lips –more like the corner of his mouth, really– but she's kissing him and he's kissing her and it's nice, with her arms around his neck and his sliding down her sides to find her waist and she's shivering for a completely different reason now, and–
They both forget to breathe.
She pulls back, her face and lips red and Kanji realizes, after a moment where he looks away, that it's okay to stare. And he does, even though it makes his face redder, and she's shivering again so he brings the blanket up around her shoulders again and lets one of his arms rest around them, smiling when she moves closer, right up next to him.
The jacket is all but forgotten, because Naoto's found a better way to keep herself warm.