The Road Already Traveled
Disclaimer: Nope.
Summary: Based on a prompt from the kink meme. "In a world where Souji never helped out with Dojima and Nanako's issues by finishing their S-Links, Nanako ends up becoming a juvenile delinquent in high school as a way of acting out against the way her dad seems to care more about his job than her. And she ends up modeling her new persona after what she remembers of how Kanji acted when he was her age, because he's proof that just because you're a street punk it doesn't mean you can't still be a good person.
And when Kanji finds out about this he's absolutely mortified that the dumb crap he did as a teenager is living on this way, and ends up taking Nanako under his wing to try talking some sense into her."
AN: First of all, props to Celirian for helping me come up with a title! I'm totally useless at them asdfghjkl.
The original poster originally requested romantic Kanji x Nanako but I couldn't do it ahahahaha, especially with the fact that I wanted her to be slightly younger than the prompt initially asked for. To OP if you see this, I hope you like it. If not, I still had a hell of a lot of fun writing it.
That aside, I do believe that the prompt was originally posted with the intention of this being a funny sort of crack fic. This is not a funny sort of crack fic; I just can't make light of a situation that I don't find funny.
Nevertheless, ONWARD.
Nanako Dojima is a delinquent.
Kanji finds this out over lunch with Chie one afternoon in the summer. He's working the shop for a while and she's got that internship at the police department that she's been gunning for for years, so Tuesday's their day to meet up, do lunch, and shoot the shit.
Normally, Kanji is okay with this, but apparently Nanako Dojima is a delinquent and he's not okay with that.
"The fuck do you mean, she got arrested?" he asks, aghast, over bowls of gyudon. Chie frowns.
"Exactly what I said," she replies, "I got a call yesterday to come out to the middle school because apparently a Miss Dojima freaked out in class. Threw a few desks, broke a window. I had to go and get her myself." Chie takes another bite of her beef bowl. "Tried to ask her why she did it but she wouldn't talk to me."
Kanji's not okay with this at all.
Apparently, Nanako doesn't get along with her classmates. Kanji remembers a few years back when Souji's adorable little cousin hung out more with them than kids her own age, but he figured that had changed after they rescued her from the TV. Apparently not. Kanji was wrong. Nanako's still hanging out with people older than her; high schoolers who carry wooden swords and smoke and cause all sorts of trouble.
"It's getting to be a pretty serious problem," Chie continues, "I mentioned it to Dojima and he doesn't seem to think it's a big deal. Like it's a big deal but not big enough that he'll pull off a case long enough to deal with it. You know how he gets on a big case." Chie's disapproval shows on her face. Kanji agrees.
He knows exactly how Dojima gets when he's on a big case and it seems like he's been on a big case for the last twelve or so years.
"Honestly, she reminds me of the way you used to be. She's doing the same sort of stuff you did before you calmed down."
Kanji 's breath catches..
"Chie, I was a little shit."
"Hey, I call it as I see it," Chie says, "Nana-chan's been bathing in eau de Kanji's-Troubled-Youth and that's all there is to it. Dojima doesn't even come and get her when she causes problems; just leaves her at the station with us. And, you know I love that kid like family but a police station isn't the place for a child, even the sort of child who does the sort of things to get put there."
Kanji remembers a bouncing, bubbly little girl who was always so happy to be with them even though they were her cousin's friends, even when she never went over to other people's houses, even when she was nearly killed by a crazy person.
He almost can't take that little girl and equate her with someone like him when he was sixteen. More than he can't, he doesn't want to.
Nanako's better than he is and Kanji's not proud of the way he was back then, not at all.
Worse than that, he hates the idea of that little girl being left alone at the police station and being anywhere near as angry as he used to be.
"I love that kid," Chie repeats with vehemence and stabs at a piece of beef, "It's just really sad."
The two of them are silent for a few minutes as Chie eats and Kanji mulls his thoughts around in beef and onions and rice.
"Hey, Chie, how about this?" he begins. "If anything else happens, just call me. I'm spending most of the summer in the shop anyway, she can't get into much trouble there and it'll get her out of your hair. I'll look after her." Kanji Tatsumi is a crazy person, clearly, but he doesn't regret the idea.
Chie brightens.
"Would you really?"
Kanji makes a stabbing gesture in her general direction with his chopsticks and throws himself back in his seat, suddenly shooting himself back to his high school days. God, he was such a shit.
"What, you think I don't love her too?" He scowls. "Senpai'd hate this. I hate this. 'Sides, it's not like it's hard for me to want to spend time with her."
And that was that.
Kanji hopes that this incident would be the only incident but a good part of him knows better.
It was only a matter of time.
Kanji's right, it's only a matter of time.
A week later his phone rings in the middle of the day and when he checks the ID it's Chie. It's not Tuesday and she won't call him in the middle of her shift for nothing.
He answers it.
"Yeah?"
"If your offer's still open, can you come down to the station? Nanako...well, I'll tell you when you get here."
She hangs up before he can say anything else and Kanji'sstomach sinks even as he flips the open sign on the front door to closed and locks up the shop, stepping out into the sunshine.
It's not a long walk to the station and even though it's been a few years, people still stare at him and give him funny looks. Kanji can ignore it now because he knows what matters, and the opinions of other people don't. He's not making trouble and if they're worried about it, they can just suck it and deal.
Kanji's bag has a little crocheted rabbit charm hanging off the buckle.
Chie meets him at the front door, looking harried and upset, and Kanji wonders if maybe he should be offering to babysit her instead.
"Thank god," she says.
"The hell happened?" The station's not on fire, all the windows are intact, and none of the chairs have been thrown. Nevertheless, Chie grabs him by the arm and drags him through a hallway until they reach a room with a large window that looks into a waiting area. Must be one of those weird one-way mirrors, he thinks, and peers through it. There's Nanako sitting in a chair and looking properly surly. She's gotten taller, obviously, and chopped off her hair and styled it wildly with gel. It's not a bad look, just...kinda prickly. Kanji looks closer. She's ripped the sleeves off her shirt and her jeans have got holes in them too, and that's not necessarily bad either. That stuff's still pretty fashionable. But in her nose...
"Dojima's going to kill her," Chie hisses at his side, "She got a piercing. She lit a trash can on fire and pierced her nose."
Well, shit.
Kanji can't help but finger his own nose a little. He's still got his stud and the ones in his ears too, but that's not so much for attitude so much as it is a habit. When he first got them, things were a little different and they were most definitely for attitude.
Oh god, Dojima might actually kill her.
He doesn't wait for the go-ahead before he's slinging the door open and walking through.
Nanako lifts her head and stares when she sees who it is.
"...Kanji-san?" she sputters, "What are you doing here?"
"Come on, jailbird, I'm busting you out," Kanji says, voice rougher than he intended, "Let's go." Nanako stares at him and looks almost like Kanji remembers her, wide-eyed and a little bit bewildered like the first time she'd met him. It's not like he hasn't seen her since Senpai left, more like he's lost track. He's seen her around town, watched her get tall and pretty, and up til last year she'd always said hello to him and he'd always recognized her. Now he's not totally sure and he regrets that he lost track because maybe if he hadn't, this wouldn't be such a shock.
"What are you doing here?" Nanako repeats. There's an edge in her voice that Kanji knows. She's looking for a fight, just waiting for him to go sharp in response. He goes out of his way to make himself as bland as possible.
"I said I'm here to bust you out," he replies, "If you'd rather stick around here and play nice with the popo, be my guest."
Nanako scowls.
"Maybe I do."
"Or maybe you're a crappy liar," Kanji retorts and gestures for her to get up, "Come on, get up and get your stuff. We're getting old here." He doesn't know what the hell he's doing except trying to make the most of his time. Nanako remains where she is for a few seconds like she's waiting for him to change his mind, and when he doesn't she pushes the chair out and gets to her feet. She gathers her bag and Kanji holds the door open for her. She slouches and scowls at everything as they walk together down the hallway.
Chie meets them in the lobby and she smiles at the both of them, half-sincere and half-relieved.
Thanks a lot, Kanji grumbles in his head, Glad you're enjoying this.
Except that he knows she's not. He knows that she adores the kid skulking just behind him even if she does the same stupid crap he did. Maybe, in a weird secret way, because of that stupid crap.
They walk in silence down the street until Nanako stops dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Thanks for getting me," she says lowly, "I'll, uh, I'll just get out of your hair." She backs away and Kanji reaches out, wraps his fingers around her arm.
"I don't think so. Come on, I told Chie that I'd look after you."
"I don't need a freakin' babysitter!"
Kanji stares her down for a good thirty seconds until finally, finally, she looks away, the tiniest hint of color showing up high on her cheeks. Kanji resists the urge to reach out and ruffle her hair until he can't anymore and does it anyway, and Nanako bats his hands away.
"C'mon, kid, let's go," he says, "Pretty sure there's barley tea at the house. Or maybe orange juice? Ehh, I don't know, there's probably something I can feed you. Either way, you're stuck with me."
To be honest, Kanji kind of expects Nanako to tell him to take a hike and ditch him after a few steps. It's probably what he would have done if he'd ever been put into this situation but she doesn't, just follows a few steps behind him. Kanji slows down until he's walking next to her.
"What are you doing, Nana-chan?" he asks lowly. It's a serious question.
"What?"
"What are you doing?" Kanji repeats, "Setting stuff on fire? Chuckin' desks around? Who'd you even find to pierce you anyway?"
"You've got them still," Nanako points out sullenly and Kanji scowls.
"Yeah but I was an idiot and I got 'em for stupid reasons. They're fine now but they were dumb as hell then. You're not stupid, Nana-chan. What's going on?"
She doesn't answer even though he waits, and she doesn't seem to notice when her bag slips down her shoulder and drags on the ground. Kanji picks it up by the strap and takes it from her so that it doesn't scuff. Unlike anything else she has on her, the bag's pink and kind of adorable and Kanji lets it hang down next to his.
"You still live here?"
The question comes when they reach the shop. Nanako sounds a little dismayed and Kanji's lips quirk upwards.
"For the time being. I'm saving up for an apartment and Ma needs the help, so it works." Kanji unlocks the door and pushes it open. "Come on in."
Nanako goes and Kanji follows. There's a pile of fabric on the kitchen table and Kanji pushes it aside, rummages around in the fridge and pulls out a jug of sweetened barley tea. Nanako's eyes flick from the fabric to the door and then back to the fabric again as Kanji pours a couple of glasses.
"What are you working on?" she finally asks, pointing.
"I just finished a project and I've got the scraps. Trying to figure out what to do with 'em." Nanako's eyes linger on the scraps. They're blue and green with some gold stitching rippling through like rivers. "Any ideas?"
Nanako bristles and her eyebrows furrow.
"No," she insists, "Stuffed animals are stupid."
Kanji hasn't said a word about stuffed animals.
He sits down at the table and gets out his sewing kit, now intent on making some sort of stuffed animal that will hopefully not look like some demented rendition of a Picasso painting. Nanako watches and fidgets uncomfortably, tapping her fingers on the table. She fidgets long enough that he eventually looks up and asks,
"Is there anything you'd like to do?"
"No," comes the immediate response, "I hate crafts."
"Can you crochet?"
"No!"
"Do you want to learn anyway?"
There's a dead silence and Nanako clenches her fists atop the table. She stares at the pile of fabric scraps that's slowly becoming something. She doesn't say yes but she also doesn't say no, and Kanji gets up to find some yarn and a needle.
Nanako's good at a lot of things but crochet isn't one of them. Kanji doesn't know what it is, whether it's the yarn or the unfamiliar feel of the needle or whether she just doesn't have the knack for it, but she's been fumbling slowly stitch by stitch for the last hour, silent save for the occasional grumble about how dumb this is. Kanji's scraps have become a penguin that he's in the process of stuffing.
"I hate this."
"Keep trying," he tells her, reaches out and shows her the stitch again, "This kinda crap's hard at first but once you learn, it sticks with you."
Brown eyes narrow and Nanako rakes a hand through her hair as she glares at the line of stitches that she's produced so far.
"Why are you making me do this?"
Frankly, Kanji was hoping that eventually she'd get so pissed off that she'd start ranting about what she was actually feeling and not just her frustrations with the yarn, but he'd take the crafting rage as a convenient substitute in the meantime.
"I didn't think I was making you do anything."
"I'd rather be in jail."
"Door's right there," Kanji gestures to it, "I'll call Chie and tell her you're on your way back." The girl shoots him the dirtiest of all dirty looks but sits back down. Kanji's pretty sure that he wouldn't actually let her bail but he's happy that she didn't call him on it anyway.
She starts quietly yelling at the yarn again.
Kanji fixes her with a scrutinizing glance.
"Speakin' of Chie, why don't you like her anymore? You used to get along real well."
Silence. Then, finally,
"She's working with my Dad."
Kanji's not really following and he says so.
"She's such a jerk," Nanako continues, "She pretends to be all nice and like she still likes me and then..." she stops abruptly. Kanji sets down the bag of stuffing.
"And then?"
Nanako wrenches the needle and ruins her last six stitches.
"I hate her."
Kanji feels something cool and unpleasant drain into his stomach at the words. She says them like she means them but she can't, not really, not with the look on her face kind of like someone's punched her. Absently, Kanji reaches across and fixes the work she messed up, using the opportunity to awkwardly pat Nanako's hand a little on the way.
There's so much there, he can tell, that she's not saying.
"You sure?"
"I thought that maybe if she was working there, Dad might stop working so much. But that didn't help at all! He still just—I hate her. She's not my friend at all. I wish—" Nanako cuts herself off and doesn't say another word.
Kanji doesn't need her to say it just yet because he's heard what he needs to and for now it's more than enough.
Gently, he takes the yarn snake and needle from her clenched fingers and coils it up.
"Here," he says, "I'll show you how to make a ball."
By the time he's shown her that, Nanako's stopped looking for the door incessantly and drinks half her barley tea and has her hand in the package of cookies that Kanji takes out of the cabinet. The mood's not relaxed necessarily; Kanji still itches to badger her and Nanako still keeps looking at him like he's grown a second head, but the hostility's gone and Kanji feels less like he's looking after a porcupine and more like a little girl. An older little girl than he's used to, but still a little girl.
Nanako doesn't hate Chie, he knows that much. She can't, not with the way she looks so sad behind all the anger. And there's a lot of anger in there, too.
"You know, Nana-chan, I used to do that kind of crap."
"I know," she says.
"I was stupid to act like that."
Nanako doesn't lift her head, doesn't look at him, doesn't do anything but very slowly, painstakingly, move the yarn around the needle.
"But you're still a good person." The words come quietly after entire minutes of silence, like she's been rolling them around in her mouth for so long that they have to come out somehow. Kanji knows how that feels. "You can do bad things and still be good. You were always nice to me. I liked you even when you weren't nice to other people. And you didn't lie."
And there's something in that that makes Kanji's heart hurt, that makes him want to lean in and wrap her up in the tightest hug he can manage. No one ought to feel like that. He resists the urge, resists for as long as he can until he can't. He doesn't feel like he can get away with hugging her but his hand comes up and nestles in cropped hair, ruffles it, and pulls her in a little to nudge her with his shoulder. She goes.
"You don't need to do that kinda stuff."
Kanji doesn't have the right to go around telling people who they are or who they should be. He of all people knows better after his experiences with the TV, knows that the people you think you know aren't always who they seem, knows that everyone has their secrets and everyone has their pain, and he's not going to deny anyone their right to that. But even so he can't watch Nanako's train wreck if he can maybe do something about it.
He went through hell pulling himself out of his own; he can't watch someone go through a second, not after she's already been through so much in such a short time. He can't.
Or he won't, he hasn't figured out which. It doesn't matter which because either way, it's not happening.
Kanji doesn't know what Nanako needs; he knows it's not what he needed, which was a good dollop of acceptance and just people to be cool with him whether he was knocking heads or sewing clothes or cooking. He doesn't know what Nanako needs, doesn't even know if there's anything he can give her other than someone who'll listen and pick her up from the police station. Kanji's shit with pretty words and actually giving advice, but hell yeah he can listen.
"How do you..." she stops.
"How do I what?"
"Nothing."
Nanako remains steadfastly close-mouthed throughout the rest of the afternoon and doesn't even say goodbye when she leaves, five minutes before Mrs. Tatsumi is due back.
She walks straight-backed until she thinks no one can see her, and then Kanji sees her start to run.
Kanji watches until he can't see her anymore then turns away from the window, bundling up her half-finished ball for later and settles down to finish his penguin.
Dojima doesn't kill Nanako over the nose ring but apparently it's a very near miss.
Now that Kanji's looking, he notices things he didn't see before.
People have always stared at him and talked about him but that's mostly died down now, and in his place they talk about Nanako.
Poor Dojima, to have his sweet little daughter turn out to be such a hooligan. What did he ever do to deserve it?
Nanako was always such a darling little girl, what could have happened to make things turn out this way?
Did you know that she lit a trash can on fire the other day?
Did you know that she runs around with high schoolers and beat up some boys in her class last week?
Did you know that...?
Did you hear that...?
People talk about Nanako the way they used to talk about Kanji, talk like they know a damn thing. They didn't know a damn thing about him and they don't know a damn thing about her either. Kanji doesn't know as much as he wants to but he knows more than they do, and they don't have any business saying anything.
Kanji knows what matters, but he also knows that things that don't matter can still hurt like hell. Like what other people think.
He's gotten over it by now but it's different with Nanako because she's just a kid and she hasn't, and he remembers hearing that sort of stuff. He remembers hearing it, hating it, and fighting it, only to give up in the face of inevitability. If people were going to talk, he might as well give them something to talk about. It they were going to talk then he may as well let them tell the truth instead of lie.
It sucked, but there it was.
And Kanji can handle hearing that sort of stuff about himself but hearing people talk about Nanako like that kills him a little bit.
No one knows a damn thing.
Not one got him then and no one gets her now and somehow, that makes him just as furious as when he was sixteen.
When Kanji gets the phone call, he doesn't even check the screen.
"Sup."
"Hey, Kanji..." Chie's voice filters through the receiver.
"I'll be there in twenty." Kanji hangs up first this time.
As expected, Dojima's nowhere to be seen in the station but instead of being locked up in what Kanji calls the mirror room, Nanako's in the lobby. She's a mess, covered in scrapes that have been hastily cleaned and marks that Kanji knows are going to bruise, but instead of looking upset she just looks blank, studiously ignoring everyone.
Chie gets up when he comes in but Kanji's not focused on her; all he can see is himself six years ago sitting in that chair. He's sat there with that same look on his face, like if he's angry enough or strong enough, then it doesn't matter what happens. It's a shitty, shitty feeling.
"Come on, jailbird," he says, same as he did last time, "I'm busting you out."
Nanako doesn't argue.
In fact, she doesn't even look at him even as she rises from her seat and Kanji takes her bag from her without waiting for her to drag it.
"Later, Chie," Kanji says with a quick backwards glance. Chie waves and doesn't say anything but he knows that she'll be watching until they're gone. Once he knows they're out of eye and earshot, he turns to Nanako. "What's all this?"
"Didn't feel like going to school," she grumbles. "School sucks and I hate it."
"Wasn't talkin' about that and you know it." Kanji reaches out and pokes her in the cheek. Yep, that one will definitely bruise if the way she winces is any indication. "Fighting now?"
"Shut up."
"Was it worth it?"
Nanako stares at the sidewalk as she walks, next to him this time instead of lagging behind.
"They were being so awful," she mumbles finally, "They were beating up on a first year."
"So you decided to beat on them instead?"
Silence.
Kanji sidles over and nudges her in the side hard enough to push her over a little.
"Did you win?"
Nanako jerks then, suddenly, and her head snaps up so fast that Kanji thinks she might have given herself whiplash. Her eyes have gone comically wide and her mouth drops in an expression of open shock.
"W-what?"
"Did you win?" Kanji repeats patiently and flashes her a tiny, teasing grin. He might not necessarily approve but he's not going to yell at her and honestly, he's not a good enough person to assume that they didn't have it coming. He's also not a good enough person to not possess a substantial dollop of respect on Nanako's behalf.
Good behavior? Not so much.
Badass? Definitely.
Good intentions? Well, Kanji knows a ton about those.
"One of them cried," Nanako offers and Kanji almost trips over his own stupid feet when the edges of her lips tilt upwards in the first smile he's seen from her in a really long time. At the expense of someone else, maybe, but he'll take it for what it is. Kanji reaches out and ruffles her hair.
"Hey, stoppit!" Nanako protests and bats his hand away, "I'm not a little kid anymore!"
"Pfft, whatever you say, squirt."
"Don't call me that." There's a warning twitch in the girl's eyebrow and Kanji ignores it in favor of goading her.
"Or what? You'll beat me up too?"
"I might."
"You're about eight years too young for that and you always will be. Give it up, kiddo." Nanako fumes and bats at him again but this time Kanji makes a face at her and starts jogging down the street. "You might catch up by the time I'm ninety and rollin' around in a wheelchair. Maybe! If you're lucky."
Nanako stops dead with the most hilariously disgruntled face that Kanji's ever seen on any human being, pauses for approximately five seconds, and then bolts after him.
"I'm gonna beat the shit out of you!" she screeches and Kanji laughs as he runs, putting on speed.
"You'll have to catch me first, little buddy!"
And he laughs the whole way back to the shop, secretly glad in the darkest crevice of his heart that he's stayed in shape this whole time.
There's someone in the shop and they're staring at Nanako.
Kanji's sitting behind the counter and mapping out a pattern in his sketchbook and Nanako's sitting next to him, hunched over and aggressively crocheting the rest of her ball. She had originally been sitting on the counter but if Ma saw that then it'd be Kanji's ass on the line, and no.
They work mostly on commission but they are still a normal shop, so even though it's almost never crowded and Kanji can get away with not being entirely professional (not that anyone really expects professionalism from him anyway), it's not like it's unheard of to have customers wandering around. It's a couple of older ladies who keep glancing from the fabrics on the shelf to the middle schooler sitting next to Kanji, then back to the fabric every time he looks up and glowers a little.
"What's she doing in here?" he hears one of them whisper, "That's the little delinquent girl, the police chief's daughter. He must be dying of shame. You know she beat up Masato's boy earlier?"
Kanji immediately looks to the side and prays that she didn't hear that.
No such luck.
Nanako's entirely still but her hands are twitching and white-knuckled, and her shoulders curl in like she's been hit, and Kanji hurts. He sets down his book and reaches over to cover Nanako's hands with one of his own and glowers shamelessly in the direction of the two women.
They don't seem to notice.
"That boy too," the other butts in, "He's shaped up now but what a nightmare. Do you remember? It's amazing that Tatsumi-san could stand it. I wouldn't have tolerated that nonsense for a moment."
Kanji can stand a lot of things now, more than he used to.
He can handle people talking about him, that's easy. He'll never really get away from that as long as there are people around who saw him but never knew him, so he's used to it. But the fact that they've got the nerve to talk about his mom like they know anything, about a kid in junior high like they have any idea of the kinds of things that make people do the things they do...it gets his blood boiling and the folding chair in the back starts looking awfully tempting.
He squashes that thought.
How can he go around trying to keep Nanako from doing the crap he did if he's still doing the crap he did?
And then he'd have to deal with Chie, and Ma, and Chie would probably tell Rise and Naoto and that'd be a giant pain in the ass. Under his palm, Nanako's hands shake.
"Maybe the Tatsumi boy made her his pupil in ruining Inaba for everyone else?"
They titter and Kanji's done.
He stands with a clatter and walks over to where they stand, and it's suddenly silent.
"Do you ladies need any help with anything?" he growls, dangerously quiet.
One of them shakes her head, and Kanji leans in to say, ferociously and with his teeth grit,
"Then buy your stuff and go. If all you're gonna do is gossip about a little girl who hasn't done anything to you, then get the hell out."
The one who spoke first gasps in shock and sets down the bundle of fabric that she's holding backwards into the slot.
"I never," she says, affronted, "If this is how we can expect to be treated in a store, then I think we'll be taking our business elsewhere."
"Do that," Kanji mutters as they leave the shop empty-handed, "And good riddance."
He's pretty sure that Ma will forgive him for losing the sale, especially if she gets wind of why Kanji was so rude, which she won't be hearing from him.
On the other side of the room, Nanako hasn't moved.
He goes back to his seat but doesn't pick up his sketchbook. There's nothing he can say, not really. What good's an apology gonna do? It'll just embarrass her. Platitudes suck, too. Kanji'd kill for Souji right about now; quite literally in fact. He's no good with people, no good with comfort, and he doesn't know what he ought to say at all. Souji always seemed to understand his cousin back then and he's pretty sure that he'd understand her now too, probably better than Kanji ever could.
So he says nothing, just stays where he is within arm's reach.
In hands reach as it turns out, because he suddenly has a set of fingers tangled tightly in the fabric at his thigh.
"Nana-chan?"
"I hate them," she whispers hoarsely, "So much." Kanji can't tell whether she's furious or hurt. Probably both if he has to make a guess. "I hate them, Kanji-san. I really do."
Hating is so very easy. Hating yourself, hating others, it all comes down to the same thing and it's all just as shitty. Kanji covers Nanako's hand with his again and squeezes hard.
"I like you, Nana-chan," he tells her quietly. "No matter what anyone else says. I like you and Souji-senpai loves you. That ain't gonna change anytime soon. I liked you when you were seven and I like you now." Nanako tightens her grip and then pulls away, taking up her needle and yarn. She fumbles the next few stitches and Kanji doesn't correct her.
"I wish Souji-oniichan would come back," she admits eventually like the words are being pulled out of her on fishing line.
Kanji knows what she means.
"I talk to him but it's not the same," she continues. "I just...he'd hate me if he knew."
Kanji's jaw drops.
"What the—the hell kinda crazy juice are you drinking?" he sputters, "Hate you? He could never! He'd be pissed off but—"
"I called him yesterday," Nanako whispers, "He asked me how school was going, about my friends. And I lied. I said school was fine and I made up stories about friends and I said—I said that Dad was taking it easy. I couldn't—I can't! He'd hate me, Kanji-san, and I can't. He saved me and sometimes I hate him too, anyway. I just can't." Her voice wavers and breaks. "I can't."
"Nana-chan..."
"I can't."
Something in Nanako snaps like a bowstring and within seconds she's crying hard and violent, big fat tears sliding down her cheeks and landing on her hands, on the counter. She drops the things she holds and covers her face as if that can protect her, gritting her teeth to try and hold back the huge, hiccupping sobs that force their way from her throat. She fails miserably.
Kanji moves, then, unthinkingly. He pulls her into his arms and squeezes tight until her breath hitches, until she gives in and sags against him. Her hands drop numbly to her sides and she buries her face in his chest to openly bawl.
It hurts.
Kanji hurts and can't pinpoint where, just all over and it's awful and this shouldn't happen.
"It's gonna be okay, Nana-chan," he hears himself murmuring, running one of the clumsy hands he still hates so much sometimes through her hair, "I promise. It's gonna be okay. I promise." He won't tell her to not cry. If that's what she needs, then he'll let her have it. If she needs to hit something, he'll let her have that too. But Kanji's words just make her cry harder.
"W-why are you so—so nice to me? I'm awful. I'm everything awful."
Kanji flinches as the words slam him straight in the chest.
"You're actin' like me, Nana-chan," he says gently when he can, "That's what you said, right? Because you can do bad things and still be a good person." He won't tell her that he doesn't deserve the compliment, misplaced and misguided as it is. Nanako chose to act like him because she liked the person he'd been, for whatever reason. "You're good. You've always been good, no matter what kinda stupid crap you do."
Nanako's hands seem so small when they come up and clench in the back of his shirt, small but so very strong.
She's always been strong, he thinks. Maybe too strong, a bit, and no one ever saw it because whoever thinks of strength as a weakness?
"I thought if I was good, Dad might see that. I thought when—when Chie-chan started working there, that she'd tell him to come home. But she just—she just sits there and doesn't care! I thought things would be okay. Why isn't it enough?" The tentative calm that Kanji has coaxed from her flees in seconds and she's shaking again. "I can't win!" She angry now and pushes out of Kanji's grip, face tear-streaked but brown eyes blazing with fury, "He'll never choose me, ever! Just because I remind him of—"
Silence.
The pieces slide into place.
This ain't about missing Souji-senpai or feeling misunderstood or any sort of stupid teenage rebellion, nowhere close. It's all tied up with Dojima, just as it was when she was seven. Just as it's always been.
He doesn't get the details (no one's ever told him and that's fine) but Kanji's angrier than he's been in years.
Kanji walks Nanako home.
The house is empty and the girl doesn't look surprised. She just rummages around in her bag and comes out holding a key attached to a simple, unadorned ring. Kanji kind of hates to just leave her here but the last thing he wants is for Dojima to actually come home and find him alone in the house with his thirteen year old daughter.
Souji when she was seven's one thing. Souji's family and so innocuous that it's almost impossible to imagine him committing some wrongdoing. Kanji is decidedly not and Kanji really doesn't want to deal with that. It'd do him no good and it'd do even less for Nanako, as much as he'd rather let her be silent with him than silent alone.
"You gonna be alright?' he asks nonetheless. Nanako fidgets a little under his scrutiny.
"It's fine," she mutters, "No big."
It is kind of a big but Kanji lets it go in favor of holding out his hand.
"Gimme your phone."
"What?"
"Gimme your phone," he repeats and waggles his fingers, "Hand it over."
"What d'ya want it for?"
Oh for the love of—had he been this recalcitrant? Kanji thinks, regretfully, yes. Yes he was.
"Just give it here. I'll give it right back. Suspicious little..." Nanako puts her phone in his hand and Kanji fiddles his way through to the contacts screen. "I'm puttin' my number in here. You start thinking stupid shit, you call me. Or text." He hands it back and watches as Nanako doesn't put it back in her bag. Instead she holds it tightly in her hands, surprised into silence. "You good?"
"...thanks."
The words are quiet but sincere and with none of the surliness that Kanji's come to expect from the kid, and in response he scrubs a hand over her hair, ruffling it to hell until she bats his hands away. Nanako smiles tremulously up at him and all Kanji wants to do is feed that smile until it comes easier, until he doesn't have to fight so hard for it.
"Be good, kid."
She stands in the doorway until he's gone and waves until she can't see him anymore, and from the end of the street Kanji can see a light upstairs go on. He doesn't know if he's helped at all, if he's done anything for her.
Awkward, clumsy Kanji. He's the absolute worst person for this but for some reason he just can't let it go. He can't pretend like he doesn't see.
Like he doesn't know.
Kanji needs to talk to Souji.
"Hey, senpai."
"Hey, Kanji," Souji's tone is surprised from the phone and Kanji realizes belatedly that it's kind of a weird time to be calling. To be calling at all, actually. Kanji mostly communicates by text and email if he can help it; they're easier and he can take his time and there's less chance of him saying something stupid. This isn't one of those times.
Like, at all.
"What's going on?"
Kanji holds the phone against his ear with his shoulder and finishes the final stitches on the stuffed penguin he'd been working on days earlier.
"I just—" he swallows hard, "What've you heard from Nana-chan lately?"
Souji pauses for a span of about five seconds.
"She's fine?" he says and phrases it more like a question, confusion coloring his whole tone, "I talked to her yesterday. She got an A on her last test? Says Uncle Dojima's been better about spending time with her. I wish I could come back more often but she keeps me updated pretty well." Souji pauses again. "...why? Did something happen?"
The lump in Kanji's throat gets harder to talk around.
"Um..." he starts, coughs, starts again, "I gotta...um. No. I—yes. I mean. I..."
"Kanji." That endlessly patient, gentle tone does the same things now as it did when Kanji was fifteen, "Calm down. It's cool. "
Kanji breathes and restarts.
"Nana-chan...Nana-chan's not really doing the best."
Silence, and Kanji continues.
"She got arrested the other day for throwin' a desk in class. She got in a fight today." Souji still doesn't say a word. "It's pretty bad. I just—I just found out and I've been tryin'–but I know she didn't say anything to you. And honestly she'll probably want to kill me for talking to you but you mean the fuckin' world to her and you gotta know."
Silence until, finally,
"...arrested?" Souji sound incredulous and Kanji can match the tone with the look on his face but he's never seen or heard it directed towards Nanako before. "Arrested?"
"Uh...yeah." Kanji clears his throat and squirms uncomfortably on the bed. "I just wanted to—"
"What the hell?! Are you kidding me? What the hell is—what the hell's Uncle Dojima..." Souji quiets. "Did she lie about that too?"
"Senpai, I don't...I don't know the kinda stuff you do about your family. That's cool, I don't expect to. When we were all in school together, we all knew enough to know that your uncle wasn't ever around, and that's all we needed to know. We didn't need to know why or anything, it's none of my business. But whatever that reason was, it's not better. It's worse."
There's a low, ragged breath from Souji's end and Kanji wonders if he's angry or hurt.
He doesn't ask.
"Kanji, you need to tell me everything you know."
And Kanji does. He tells Souji about that first conversation with Chie, tells him about offering to pick her up if anything happens. He tells him the way people talk about her and the little hinty snippets that Kanji doesn't get but Souji probably will. He tells him about the way she still tries really hard even she sucks at something and how she dissociates from her classmates and the pink cat printed on the back of her cell phone case.
Through all of it Souji breathes, silent and wordless. Kanji can't imagine how he feels if he felt the knowledge like a kick in the chest.
"I don't really like airing out dirty laundry," he says eventually, "But I think you need to know this."
Kanji itches to rush him and violently squashes the urge.
"The whole reason why Uncle works the way he does is because of Nanako. Rather...his wife, Nanako's mother. She was murdered and the case was never solved. When he looks at Nanako, that's all he sees. He's never gotten over it."
And Kanji doesn't think he ever will. If he acted like that when Nana-chan was seven and tiny, how's it gotta be now that she's older and thinking her own thoughts and growing up?
"I don't know if she looks like her, or acts like her, or what," Souji says hoarsely, "But that's why. But I thought that things were better. I thought, when I left..." Kanji aches with sympathy and wishes that he was having this conversation face-to-face, where he might be able to do something. Maybe he wouldn't hug Souji the way he'd reach for Nanako, or maybe he would, or maybe he couldn't do anything at all but it'd be better than this helplessness where all he can do was sit there and hear it and do nothing.
Kanji's always hated not being able to do something, to be locked in, to be pinned down.
He hated it then and he hates it just as much now.
"You're there and I'm not," Souji's talking again now and Kanji listens. "So I need you to look after her."
"Senpai, you need to talk to her," Kanji insists, "She needs you."
"I can talk to her but I can't be there. You can. I can talk to her but it's not..." Souji sounds helpless and frustrated. "I can't do anything. Not from here, and not before I talk to my uncle. He loves her. He really loves her but sometimes he just...sometimes he can't look at her. I thought it was better." A trickle of despair creeps into Souji's tone and Kanji wishes that he had a chair to smack it away with.
"Talk to her first," Kanji tells him again before he hangs up.
He won't sleep much that night and he's half asleep in the shop the next morning.
His phone doesn't ring all day.
The next night, Kanji dreams of events he thought he moved past. He dreams of a little girl lying so very still in a hospital bed and the psychopath they thought was on their side, and slipping into darkness. It's been years but he still remembers and unconsciously, his hands twitch around an invisible pipe.
He tells himself that things are different now and he's not a scared little kid anymore, but that might be a giant lie.
That Tuesday, Chie slams violently into her seat at the lunch counter. She's fifteen minutes late and fuming, and Kanji wordlessly pushes over his bowl of edamame in her direction, and she rips the husk open.
With her teeth.
"Uh...bad day?" he asks when he thinks she won't actually breathe fire at him, after she's eaten after half of his soybeans.
"The worst," she snarls, and Kanji signals to the waiter for another serving of beans because he's sure as hell not risking taking his back. She can have them. "I want to throw him through a window!"
"...so I'm ordering you steak, then."
He does so along with a bowl of soba and peanut sauce for himself and they don't speak until the food arrives, and Chie tears into her steak with gusto.
"So what crawled up your butt?" Kanji finally dares to ask, wary despite himself.
Chie glares.
"Dojima," she says shortly. Kanji feels his stomach drop.
"What...uh, what happened?"
Chie glances at him out of the corner of her eye.
"It'd be super unprofessional of me."
"How professional are you normally?"
"...good point," she admits, "And honestly, I think if I was gonna tell anyone, I ought to tell you. You're the only one who...well. You're the only one who seems to be able to do anything these days." And that's the point that Kanji realizes that this is an issue with Nanako. Now that he's expressed concern and a willingness to help, Chie doesn't mind telling him the sorts of things that she's kept to herself this whole time. And there are a lot of them. "It's just- I walked into my shift this morning, sat down to do some paperwork, and I heard Dojima talking to someone. I don't know who, it doesn't really matter." Chie takes another vicious bite of her food. "And he was just like," she lowers her voice in a caricature of her boss' voice, "I don't understand why Nanako's causing so much trouble recently. She's always been independent and capable, she should know better. Maybe if you went home once in a while instead of living out the station, you'd get it."
There's a splintering sound and Chie falls silent. They look down; she's crushed her chopsticks in her fist.
"Balls," she grumbles, "It just pisses me off, Kanji. He thinks this is normal! That she's just- I don't know, having some sort of coming of age I-don't-even-know-what. This is not a Miyazaki movie! He can't just wait around for freaking Totoro to pop out of a bush and make things better."
Kanji considers telling her the sinister origins of that movie but decides that right now is possibly not the best time.
"I don't know what to do," she admits, "It's none of my business but...it's kind of is my business. I mean, I love that kid. We've all known her forever and sometimes I just remember and I remember what she looked like lying in that hospital bed and how close she came to dying. And then it's really awful because I can't help but think that things were better when he was working with Adachi. That asshole at least dragged him home. Drunk, but there." Chie looks shocked and horrified the moment the words are out of her mouth but makes no attempt to take them back.
Kanji thinks of Adachi's face and wants to punch it .
He also gets the really stupid idea that it might be time to actually do something about this.
Nanako's never texted him before.
Kanji thinks at first that he might have hallucinated it but no, there it is, Nana-chan in plain letters shown on the screen of his phone.
hi kanji is all it reads. Kanji stares at it for a few seconds, bemused. Not that he has a problem with it, he gave her his number for a reason and she can call or text or whatever whenever she wants, but it's weird and it's nearly one in the morning. Nevertheless, he texts her back.
Hey Nana-chan, he taps out, Sup?
The reply comes almost immediately.
Nothing.
Kanji scowls at his mobile.
You sure? he asks, Its kinda late. Don't you have school in the am?
There's a full minute and a half before he gets a new message this time.
Can't sleep.
What's wrong? Kanji's fully awake by then and sits up in bed, throwing the covers off his shoulders and flipping the light on. He doesn't think about what he's doing when he dials the number. It rings once, twice, three times even though he knows she's sitting right there and probably staring at it. Right before it goes to voicemail, there's a click.
No answer, though.
"Hey, Nana-chan."
There's a stuttering breath.
"Hey, Kanji-san." Nanako's voice is rough like she's been crying.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
That's pure bullshit and they both know it. Nevertheless, Kanji sighs and adjusts the phone against his ear.
"Okay," is all he says, quiet and steady. "You want to talk about it?"
"No."
"You want to hang up?"
Silence, then,
"No."
"Okay." And Kanji doesn't say anything else, just sits on his bed on top of the covers and doesn't push except when the sound of near-silent sniffling filters through the receiver. "I'm here, Nana-chan. It's okay." Except that it's not really okay but he wants to make it so. She doesn't say anything to that but, eventually, he hears her breathing go even.
"I'm going to bed," she tells him, curt and shirty and defensive, though the roughness in her voice gives her away, "Goodnight."
And she hangs up with a click before he can reply.
Kanji has it on good information (bought off of Chie, of course, with his word that he'll be paying for lunch next time) that Dojima doesn't have much of a choice but to be at the station tomorrow afternoon. Something about a city-wide safety meeting and then something that he didn't really pay much attention to, not if it would give him the meeting he needed.
So Kanji has it on good information that Dojima will be where he needs him to be at approximately two-thirty three days later when he walks into the station like a man on a mission.
Chie looks up, sees his face, and then looks away only to pop up about ten seconds later with an announcement that she's going to go get coffee. Chie hates coffee but Kanji would put money on her not showing her face at least until he's gone. Probably for the best, really, considering that she was the one who spilled the beans in the first place.
Dojima's sitting at his desk and hunched over a pile of papers and Kanji takes in a deep breath as if that will make him taller.
"Hey, Dojima," he announces loudly, "Can we talk?"
The man lifts his head and raises a single eyebrow. He's surprised to see him, Kanji notes, and fights the perpetual urge to punch his lights out.
"I don't have much time..."
"You've got enough time for this," Kanji grumbles and approaches.
"I don't much like your attitude."
Good, not many people do and good riddance to 'em.
"Look, you've gotta quit doin' this," Kanji waves a hand over Dojima's cluttered desk, the shelves stuffed with papers and folders, the box next to his door that's full of clutter. "You gotta go home, be with Nana-chan. You know she-"
"I appreciate the insight," Dojima says with a tone that says that he doesn't appreciate it at all, "But I think I can figure out how to raise my own kid." His words are firm and solid and he obviously believes them. Kanji remembers the way Nanako shook in his arms and steadfastly doesn't, because he's the one she called when she needed help and that's what matters.
"I don't think you can."
The whole station goes very, very still, and absolutely silent. Dojima's face shuts down completely and he looks Kanji in the eye.
"Excuse me?"
"Y-you heard me!" Kanji blusters forward, "I'm sayin' that you're being a dick to Nanako and that you need to knock it off!"
Absolute, dead silence.
"When was the last time you ate with her? When was the last time you looked at a school test? When was the last time you went grocery shopping together?" Kanji barrels on and as he keeps talking the words keep coming faster, tumbling out of him as if they'd always been there. "Why do you think she doesn't wait up for you anymore? You think just 'cause she's getting older that she don't need you anymore? That's why she needs you! She's not doing this 'cause it's fun, you know. You're her damn father; act like it!"
And now he's not just talking about a teenager who needs her dad; he's talking about himself, a much younger and much angrier Kanji who watched his own father die in a white sterile bed, and who can't keep still when he thinks the same thing might happen again but not to him, without the unconquerable facet of death to muddle things.
He has to make Dojima understand.
Kanji couldn't say this sort of stuff when he was a kid and Nanako can't say it now and he'll do his best to say it for her because no one else seems to be able to.
"You think you're the only one who hurts? You're hurting her every time you don't fuckin' come home!"
Kanji's breathing hard and feels his heartbeat rushing through his head and suddenly, suddenly, it's like there's very little else to say. Dojima stares at him, hard-faced.
"...are you quite finished?" he asks lowly. Kanji bristles.
"Depends."
Dojima takes a short step closer, then one more, then another until he's practically nose-to-nose with Kanji.
"You are out of line and I won't stand for it," he says, so quiet with fury that it's almost a whisper, "I've let you say your piece. Do not come near my family again. Do not come here, do not contact Nanako. If you do, I will be forced to take formal action."
Kanji wants to laugh and then he wants to cry, and then all he wants is to see this whole town burn to the ground.
"And then what, you'll just keep doing what you're doing?" he spits, "That's worked so well so far."
"Leave, Kanji Tatsumi," Dojima snarls, "You think some punkass kid like you could ever understand how to be someone's father? I've warned you, now get out."
So Kanji does even though it chafes him, even though he's shaking with rage and something dangerously close to despair, and he's failed. He thought that he might be able to do something, something to make Dojima see, but he can't even do that.
He knew he'd make him angry (that was half the point, after all) but he thought that in the end he'd make him see, and he couldn't.
Kanji doesn't doubt the warning, not when he knows that he overstepped his bounds. He hadn't meant to say all that. He hadn't meant to project himself into it. This was supposed to be all about Nanako, for Nanako, and somehow Kanji'd gotten himself so tangled up in it that he can't tell anymore where sympathy starts and empathy begins and logic takes a backseat to the both of them.
Despite it all, part of Kanji still expects Nanako to text him, but that doesn't happen. He assumes that Dojima told her under no uncertain terms to stay away from him, and Chie doesn't call him the next time Nanako gets herself into trouble because he knows Dojima's forbidden her from doing so. He doesn't want to know what Dojima said to either of them to make it happen and honestly he can't totally blame Chie even though a piece of him is quietly furious at the injustice even though he understands.
This is her life, this is her job, this is her future that she can't risk and Kanji won't make her even though he itches to call her a coward.
Kanji can't because he's a coward as well.
The phone call comes when Kanji doesn't expect it, at three in the morning on a Thursday a week later. Nana-chan flashes on the screen and Kanji stares at it blearily and fumbles with the phone before finally managing an answer.
"Nana-chan?" he mumbles.
All that comes through is a muffled sob and Kanji jolts, suddenly panicked..
"Nana-chan, what's wrong? Talk to me, what's going on?"
Ragged, unsteady breathing.
"Kanji? I...I did something really stupid, Kanji. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm so stupid, Kanji."
Kanji throws himself out of bed and takes the stairs four at a time. He doesn't take care of how much noise he makes or of whether he's woken Ma up.
"Forget that, Nanako. Where are you? I'm on my way now."
There's a gasp and a rattle that sounds like metal.
"N-no! You don't need to-"
"Address, Nanako. Now," Kanji orders.
"It's not...I'm in the alley. By the train station." She's crying again, big, shuddering sobs muffling and mangling her words, "Please don't tell my dad."
Kanji doesn't answer, just orders her to stay on the line and where she is until he gets there. His blood's pounding like it hasn't since he was throwing chairs around. Nanako's in an alley. Nanako. Is in. An alley. He knows that alley; he's gotten into fights in that alley and thrown trash cans at people in that alley, made people bleed in that alley.
The streets are dark and empty so it's an easy trip; Kanji sprints anyway, all the way to the train station.
The station's also dark and Kanji ducks into the alley, surveying the clusters of trash cans and cardboard boxes.
"Nana-chan?" he offers into the silence. A trash can rattles and there's another sniff, and Kanji makes a beeline for the back of the alleyway. Nanako's sitting behind a can, huddled against the wall with her knees tucked up to her chin. Her clothing's ripped and bruises are beginning to form on her arms, and there's a splash of color forming on her left cheek like she's been punched in the face. Her knee's bleeding too, staining her pants and her palms. "What..."
"I got into a fight with dad," she whispers, "He yelled at me. I yelled at him and then I left. And I got—there's this gang that hangs around, and I can't get up, and—and—" Nanako breaks off and dissolves into another round of tears that break Kanji's heart, and he kneels down in the rubbish to pull her into his arms and hug her tightly.
"You scared the ever loving shit out of me," he mumbles into her hair and smooths it down with one of his too-big, too-clumsy hands. His too-big hands are shaking a little.
"I'm sorry," she wails from somewhere around his collar, "I'm sorry."
"I know, Nana-chan," Kanji says, "I know you are." When she seems to calm slightly, he shifts. "Come on, then."
"What?" Nanako manages to ask, startled. Kanji lets go of her and turns around, gesturing at his back.
"We're going to the hospital to get you looked at. Hop on."
She looks, for a moment, like she's going to protest but thinks better of it when she sees his face. Good, Kanji thinks a bit vindictively, he hopes that he looks like he feels because he feels like the pit of his stomach's going to drop right out. Whether the feeling stems from residual terror or relief, he's not sure. Nanako slowly clambers onto his back and Kanji stands. She's light and he finds her easy to carry.
"Are you gonna call my dad?" she dares to ask again when they're about halfway to the hospital, nose nestled into the back of his neck.
Kanji doesn't answer her.
Kanji does call Dojima.
It chafes at him to do it because it doesn't matter if the man was in the right or wrong, Kanji's still super pissed off, but that doesn't matter either. Nanako's still his kid and despite everything, Kanji knows he loves her. A dick about doing what he's supposed to, but he loves her and needs to be here.
Still, dialing the number kind of hurts.
"What?" Dojima's voice answers in a snarl and Kanji fights the initial reaction to snap back.
He's worried, he tells himself. His thirteen year old daughter just ran off in the middle of the night and if he called she wouldn't have picked up, and Kanji hears the bustle of another office in the background. So not at home, then. Out searching?
"This is Kanji Tatsumi," Kanji replies, awkward but resigned, "Just thought I'd let you know, uh, Nana-chan and I are at the hospital. She's fine, though!" he rushes to assure him, knowing exactly what that jolt feels like, "She got into a fight with some people and she's a little beat up, but she'll be totally fine."
Something drops with a thunk in the background and Kanji hears a muffled sir? Dojima releases a thin, reedy breath not unlike his daughter.
"Thank god," he breathes and repeats, "Thank god. I thought..." he stops. Kanji knows what he thought.
"Just come," Kanji tells him unnecessarily before hanging up, "I'll meet you in the lobby."
Dojima is a fuckin' basket case, Kanji notes with some satisfaction when he bustles through the doors. He feels bad for the thought almost immediately though and sidles forward to meet him halfway, hands up in a pacifying gesture.
"Tatsumi," is Dojima's idea of a greeting, "Where—"
"Nana-chan's on the second floor, room 211," he answers promptly, "Everything's superficial, she'll be able to go home as soon as you go in and clear it." That and fill out the seven pages of paperwork that Kanji couldn't complete. Dojima nods tersely and turns to leave but stops when Kanji steps in front of him to block his way. "Look, I know this ain't my business but I'm making it my business now. Go easy on her."
"Don't tell me how to treat my kid," the man grumbles. Kanji doesn't budge.
"Go easy on her," he repeats and feels a tendril of pity when Dojima's whole bearing softens and he slumps down into a chair to bury his face in his hands. Kanji folds his arms over his chest and resents the sympathy he can't help but have. "Dojima-san?"
"This is all so messed up."
Kanji agrees but keeps his mouth shut.
"Shit."
Dojima sits there for several minutes with his face in his hands until finally he looks up again. His eyes are red.
"You were there last time too," he says tonelessly, "I didn't really think about it then. You all were, all you kids. When she..."
Kanji remembers too, not just the fear for Souji's adorable little cousin but the queasiness in his stomach that shot him back to his father and the absolute terror that someone else he loved was going to follow him. He remembers the darkness that clung to that hospital room, that clung to Souji, that clung to Dojima, that clung to himself. He doesn't want that again.
"It's different this time," he says finally. "It's not the same."
There's about two more minutes of silence before Dojima gets up without a word, straightens his jacket a little bit, and starts heading for the elevator. Kanji trails behind him. The man hesitates when he reaches the correct room, just for a moment, but then he pushes the door open.
Nanako's sitting on the bed in her clothes looking miserable and terrified. Kanji didn't outright tell her who he was calling but it was very strongly implied, and her face has been stark white with fear ever since. Kanji doesn't really blame her; he'd be a little afraid of Dojima too if he were her. For a split second, Dojima glances to him and Nanako, in turn, looks at him too and Kanji finds himself pinned under a set of identical brown stares. He swallows hard and finds Dojima's easier to take. He looks lost, torn, and just this side of frantic.
Kanji takes pity on him.
Go, he mouths silently and doesn't bother being subtle at all.
Dojima moves and Nanako flinches for just a moment before he's pulled her into a tight hug, dragging her close and smoothing her hair, running hands over her shoulders and back as if he can't trust Kanji or the doctor's word. Nanako freezes up tense and then folds, dropping into her father's shoulder and burying her face into the fabric of his uniform.
Dojima murmurs some soothing nonsense that Kanji doesn't even try to make out but somewhere in there he hears I'm sorry, I'm so sorry and something tight uncoils inside his gut.
Things might, might be okay, he thinks and runs his hands through his hair and backs out of the room, only to run into something tall, warm, and solid.
Kanji turns around and the world slows down, grinding to a halt.
"Hello, Kanji. Uncle, Nanako."
Right there in the doorway stands Souji, holding a bag that's weirdly lumpy, like it was packed in a rush.
"Senpai, I-"
The edge of Souji's lips tilt up.
"I was in the air when I got your text," he says, "First thing I saw when I got off the plane."
"...Souji-oniichan?" Nanako's got that fearful sick feeling on her face again and Souji lets the bag drop when he makes a beeline for her too, ducking his head and kissing her forehead.
"You're an idiot," he tells her sternly and she droops, "What were you thinking, worrying everyone like that? And lying to me?" With every word, she droops further until she's the picture of misery again, and Kanji wants to tell him to take it easy too but nothing comes out of his mouth. He shouldn't have worried, because Souji reaches out to tilt her chin up. "It's been hard, huh?"
Nanako bites her lip and Kanji realizes with a start that she looks so young.
She is young, he reminds himself. It's easy to forget sometimes that that too-adult teenager is still just a little girl and Kanji feels terrible for just recently remembering that, but maybe he hasn't grown up as much as he thought he had either, if the mere presence of Souji is enough to make him feel more grounded and at ease.
"Souji," Dojima finally speaks up, "Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here?"
Souji smiles a smile that makes Kanji so happy that he's not on the other end of it and doesn't really answer.
Souji's dead on his feet and they take a police car back when Nanako finally passes out on top of Dojima's knees. The ride's near silent except for Dojima's questions and Souji's polite but firm answers.
Yes, he's arranged everything with his professors for an extended stay, and he hopes that taking his old room again won't be any trouble.
No, he doesn't need anything but sleep and a day or so of adjusting to the time change.
Yes, his parents are fine.
Kanji spends the ride trying to pretend that he doesn't exist in this family moment. A weird as shit family moment (he's willing to put money on Dojima and Souji having a full blown shouting match later when Nanako's not in earshot) but a family moment regardless, and now that all the excitement's over he's just looking forward to falling into his bed and sleeping until noon.
For now he's content. Nanako's safe, Dojima has for the time being pulled his head out of his ass, and Senpai's back for a while. There's not much to be unhappy about in that.
So Kanji lets himself slide down to lean against the cool glass of the window, lets his eyes fall shut, and lets the movement of the car lull him into a doze.
He doesn't remember getting into his bed but somehow he does because Kanji does end up sleeping until noon, much to the chagrin of his mother, who scolds him a bit for all the ruckus during the night but goes quiet when he tells her why and kisses him on the forehead without another word. Kanji will never understand people, not even his own mom.
He fights the antsy, flustery urge inside him that demands he text Souji.
The guy's been through a twelve hour flight and god only knows how many layovers involved in such a short-notice trip; Kanji can wait until he's gotten some rest. So he makes himself go down to the shop instead and ask if Ma needs anything from the store. He needs something to do that doesn't involve sitting still and thinking and if that involves grocery shopping, he'll take it.
The walking helps some and it's not until three in the afternoonand Kanji has an armful of shopping bags that his phone beeps and he practically drops them all to check it. Souji's still half dead because all it says is,
Wanna do lunch?
Kanji shoulders his bags again and hastily texts back, I've got groceries but if you wanna come over, you know where the place is. I just bought enough food for six people.
Cool, the reply comes quickly. That's all there is to it and that's classic Souji, Kanji thinks. Polite, but definitely succinct. Kanji likes that, though; some people use a bajillion freakin' words to say a single thing that could be said in, like, two. Souji says what he needs to and leaves it at that, without all the ringmaroll that goes into talking to Rise or Yosuke or even, god forbid, Teddie.
Nothing else comes and Kanji continues home, telling Ma that Souji's gonna be over at some point and going to put the groceries away. He should probably just fix something simple, he decides, and makes some chicken salad for sandwiches.
The doorbell rings.
Souji still looks tired but less like he's been on a plane for twelve hours and Kanji invites him inside.
"How long do you think you'll be here, senpai?" he eventually asks, and Souji frowns.
"However long it takes for things to get better," he replies, sitting down at the table and taking the offered sandwich, "Thanks."
"You sure you can do that?"
"I can get away with it. Mostly what I'm doing now is research anyway and I can do research anywhere. My advisers love me."
That's not terribly surprising. Souji's been able to charm the pants off of just about anyone since Kanji's known him, why shouldn't he still be able to? Kanji imagines all of Souji's American professors and what they must think of him and stifles a snicker, hiding it in his sandwich.
"I want to thank you again."
Kanji chokes.
"What the—for what?" he sputters, ignoring the crumbs he's just gotten all over the table.
"For Nanako. For telling me about what was going on. For dealing with Uncle Dojima."
"What the hell, man? That shit—except for the thing with your uncle—that's all stuff that I should be doing. You don't need to thank me for that."
"Yeah, I do."
Kanji glares.
"No, you really freakin' don't." That comes out sharper than he meant it to and Souji's grey eyes widen slightly. "Look. I know she's your family and all and it's different, but you think I don't remember when we were fightin' shadows all the time? And we'd all meet up at Junes and you'd bring her along? And she just—it doesn't seem like much, I guess, but she liked me even though I was kind of an asshole. She liked me, senpai." Kanji doesn't say that he'd walk through fire for that kid. He doesn't think he needs to.
"She still likes you."
"I know."
Kanji does know.
"So don't thank me."
Souji stares for a few moments and then lets out an undignified snort into the palm of his hand.
"Okay, okay. You win. No thanks, then."
They sit in quiet for a few minutes and Souji eats more of his chicken salad and Kanji rolls words around in his head like rocks, and they feel just as cumbersome as when he was fifteen.
"Is your uncle pissed?"
"Exceptionally," Souji replies with a grimace, then shakes his head. "He'll...well, he'll deal with it. He knows what he did that went wrong, he knows how to fix it. It's just...I think it's going to be hard." Kanji has no doubts. Anything that matters is hard even when it shouldn't be, and Nanako definitely matters.
And despite all their issues, Dojima loves her.
How could he not?
Kanji wonders and hopes and says nothing because now that Souji's here it's not his business. Souji who's on top of things, Souji who fixes what's broken whether it's in a person or the world, Souji who...huh. Looks like Kanji never did get rid of that hero complex of his, even though he thought he'd outgrown it when he saw Adachi get put in jail.
"Think it'll be okay?" Kanji asks.
"Right away? Hard to say," Souji says after some deliberation, "But I'll make it be okay. This time I'll fix things. This time none of us are quite so alone."
And really, only Senpai could get away with saying such schmoopy crap with a straight face and Kanji says so and is rewarded with laughter.
They sit around Kanji's kitchen table for a few minutes more and then Souji gets to his feet.
"I promised Yukiko and Chie I'd go and play catch-up after I saw you," he says apologetically, "Soon we'll have to find a day to all go out together, yeah?"
Kanji clears the plates from the table and hopes that the smile that curls his lips up isn't too awkward-looking.
"Uh, yeah. O'course," he replies and Souji leaves, and then he's left to himself and his thoughts again.
Some days later, there's a knock on the door way too early in the morning for Kanji to be awake. Nevertheless he goes downstairs to open it, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The moment it's opened Kanji's knocked back on his heels with the force of the tiny whirlwind that barrels headlong into his chest. Nanako wraps her arms around his waist and holds tight and Kanji doesn't have to think to return it, squeezing her firmly.
"Good morning, Kanji-san!"
Nanako's wearing her school uniform for the first time Kanji's seen so far, collar pressed, and her chestnut hair curls around her nape, no longer gelled into submission.
"How are you, Nana-chan?"
That's a loaded question and a half and Nanako smiles a little, rubs her cheek against his shoulder.
"I'm..." she pauses, "Better. The last few days have been better. We all had a really long talk a few nights back and Dad listens to Souji-oniichan and—and—we ate together every night this week, and Dad..." Nanako shifts on her feet as if embarrassed, "Dad hugged me when he came home. And we went grocery shopping together." It's impossible for her to hide the brightness in her eyes and Kanji reels her in again to ruffle her hair.
"I'm glad," he says.
He knows this isn't over. Permanent change doesn't happen in a few short days but maybe, maybe this is an uphill battle. There are still going to be problems, he's sure; Souji can't make that many miracles, but it's on the way and all Kanji has to do is look at Nanako to know it.
She smiles and it doesn't look like it hurts. She's on her way to school and she's holding her book bag, and the bruises and marks on her face have faded to the point that they're almost invisible now.
"You know your dad and Souji-senpai love you, right, Nana-chan?"
"I know," she says finally, "It's just...it's gonna be hard for a while is all."
"You know I love you too, right?"
Nanako freezes and then proceeds to go red from her neck to the tips of her ears, gaping up at him like Kanji's suddenly grown two extra heads. Kanji shrugs and grins, not a small bit sheepishly.
"Can't hurt for you to hear it once in a while, yeah? You're a good kid and you're pretty much family."
Nanako's fists clench at her sides and for a second, just a second, Kanji thinks she's tempted to hit him. At least until she grabs him in another crushing hug that nearly knocks the wind out of him with the strength of it.
"-Ack! Nana-chan?"
She mumbles something that Kanji can't make out.
"What?"
She pulls away just far enough to scowl at him.
"I love you too."
And if that doesn't just make Kanji feel like his heart's gonna explode, he doesn't know what would.
"Aren't you gonna be late?"
Nanako grins wickedly and skips backwards with a bounce in her step, scooping up her bag that she dropped.
"No one even expects me to show up, what's a few extra minutes?"
Kanji glares at her and makes a shooing motion with his hands towards the street.
"Go, Nana-chan."
She laughs as she leaves and Kanji likes to think that he can still hear it after she's out of sight.
END
AN2: AND THERE YOU HAVE IT. This monster took me way, way too long to write but I'm satisfied with how it came out. If you enjoyed this, please leave a review; this is my first P4 fanfic and I'd love to know what y'all think of it~