AN: sorry i haven't updated for the past month. i've been staying with my grandparents, and, well, i wouldn't want to risk some old lady's life by having her accidentally walk into the room and see me updating awful fanfiction.
Kanji wasn't able to sleep that night. Every bump, every creak, every movement, it was just one of those weird demon hell-spawn things which the movie had been so full of. He tossed around in bed, wondering if Naoto, too, had as much trouble sleeping as he did.
The sudden knocking on his door gave him an answer as much as it gave him a heart attack.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering for a second if it was one of those demented creatures coming to send him to the underworld. No, he thought to himself, hell no. There was no way; how dumb would you have to be to fall for something like that? Kanji then supposed that he was pretty dumb, but not that dumb.
"Y-yeah?" he called as he sat up, really hoping that it wasn't one of those things. He saw a the silhouette of his door crack open, a figure sticking its head it.
"Kanji-kun?" The delinquent gave a sigh of relief after recognizing the voice.
"Y-yeah, uh, Naoto," he began, a bit confused. "What- uh, what are you..."
"I can't sleep," he heard the figure say, cracking the silhouette of his open door wider.
"Oh, uh," he replied. At least that answered his question. "Me neither." He could feel himself becoming red, for no apparent reason, really. Naoto's silhouette just stood there. "Oh, er," he began, realizing she was just standing there for a reason. "You can come in if you want." Scooting over to the farther side of the bed, he made room for the detective to sit.
"Oh, um," she began, slowly making her way towards Kanji's bed. "Thanks..."
As she came closer, the taller first-year could see her a lot more clearly now. She had a blanket draped over her shoulders and her hair was tousled over her head. He found her somewhat cute this way, to say the least. He could feel his face starting to become pink as he felt his bed dip into where she was now sitting.
"Sorry if I'm bothering you," the silhouette of the detective said.
"Huh?" the delinquent started. "Oh, no," he went on, his cheeks still pink. "'S fine."
But still, he thought, she was sitting on his bed, Naoto Shirogane, on Kanji Tatsumi's bed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Not like when the monster from the movie came out from behind the door, or like when the earthquake shook the entirety of YasoInaba and everywhere around it, but like when he felt her lips come in contact with his cheek. That kind of pounding; the kind that would keep you up not one, not two, but an entire lifetime's worth of nights just because you wanted to say those three simple words to that one specific person.
Kanji wanted to punch himself right now. Now wasn't the time for bullshit metaphors and poetry or whatever. He didn't want to ruin any chances between the two.
"I- uh," he began, looking for something to say to break the silence. He could feel the heat of her back against his arm. "I guess we shouldn't have seen that movie," he said jokingly.
He heard a small snort coming from Naoto. "I suppose we shouldn't have," she agreed. "But still," she went on, swinging her legs on top of the bed. Kanji's heart thudded. "I guess you could say that I'm somewhat glad." She pulled her knees into her chest.
"Oh," the delinquent mumbled, not quite sure if he was getting what the detective was implying.
The silence rang on, but it wasn't all that awkward anymore. He was just comfortable with her sitting beside him, hoping that she was at least somewhat comfortable as well.
"You know," the shorter first-year started, still looking forward. "Ever since I came here, I think I've come to realize a lot of things, things I don't think-," she shook her head. "No," she began again. "Things I know I wouldn't have been able to realize anywhere else. I think," she began, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I think I..." She trailed off into silence, still staring in front of her.
Kanji wanted her to go on; he wanted her to say those words he knew there was only a one in a million chance of her saying, not fully aware that the chance was much larger than he thought. Much, much larger.
The detective gave a sigh, turning around. "Look, just-," she started, pushing away whatever else she was about to say. "Thank you, Kanji."
They weren't exactly the words that he had been hoping for, the words that he himself had wanted to say, but they were enough. Hell, he thought, they were more than enough. He nodded dumbly as Naoto then looked back forward, the silence flooding back in.
"Well, uh," Kanji began, looking away. "I think I'm gonna try and hit the hay again." He then looked back towards the detective who was still looking forward. "Er, yeah." He then turned over onto his side, facing away from the shorter first-year, not really wanting to sleep, but trying to make things less awkward now that he had nothing else to say.
"You can, uh, stay here for the night, if you want," he added, looking over his shoulder towards the detective. That was fine, right? It was a full-size bed, there was enough room. They were just friends, too, Kanji thought, a bit disheartened by that truth. Naoto looked over towards the delinquent, who, after a moment of eye-contact, quickly looked back in front front of him.
"Thank you," she mumbled, "I guess." Kanji couldn't help but blush as he felt the detective shift herself around next to him, her back against his.
Fuck hell-spawn, he thought, how was he supposed to sleep with Naoto in the same bed? He laid there for a while, his heart beating and stomach churning. After a while, for he had not even the slightest clue of how long he had been there, he felt the detective next to him shift, pulling the blanket that she was wrapped in.
God, he thought, he was pathetic. Not being able to sleep like this, just because someone who probably didn't even like him back was in the same bed, was pathetic. His train of putting himself down was interrupted when he felt a vibration under his pillow.
Hesitant at first, he slowly stuck his hand beneath his pillow, not wanting to disturb the person beside him. He pulled his blanket over his head to shield the light as he checked his phone. Who the hell would be texting him this late at night? Blinded for a few seconds, his eyes quickly adjusted.
One Message:
Naoto Shirogane
Turning red, his heart went boom boom as he read who the sender was. His heart then went thud thud as he checked the message.
[2:56] Naoto Shirogane: Are you awake?
An embarrassed smile came across his face as he typed out a reply.
[2:57] Kanji Tatsumi: Yeah.
[2:57] Kanji Tatsumi: No, wait.
[2:57] Kanji Tatsumi: No.
The delinquent grinned even more as he felt an elbow strike his back.
[2:57] Naoto Shirogane: Very funny, Kanji-kun.
[2:58] Kanji Tatsumi: Hey, you're the one who asked.
[2:58] Naoto Shirogane: ...
[2:58] Kanji Tatsumi: ...
[2:59] Naoto Shirogane: ...
Kanji snorted aloud.
[2:59] Kanji Tatsumi: Why'd you text me in the first place?
[2:59] Naoto Shirogane: Do I need a reason to text you?
[3:00] Kanji Tatsumi: Well,
[3:00] Kanji Tatsumi: No.
[3:00] Kanji Tatsumi: But...
[3:00] Naoto Shirogane: I'm thirsty.
[3:01] Naoto Shirogane: There, are you happy?
[3:01] Kanji Tatsumi: Haha, real cute.
[3:01] Kanji Tatsumi: Can I get back to sleeping now?
[3:02] Naoto Shirogane: No.
[3:02] Naoto Shirogane: Get me something to drink.
[3:02] Kanji Tatsumi: Excuse me?
[3:02] Naoto Shirogane: Did I stutter?
The delinquent then brought his own arm back, elbowing the detective behind him.
[3:03] Kanji Tatsumi: Yeah, VERY cute.
[3:03] Naoto Shirogane: That's no way to treat a guest, Kanji-kun.
[3:03] Kanji Tatsumi: What? I don't even HAVE anything up here to drink.
[3:04] Kanji Tatsumi: Unless you want
[3:04] Kanji Tatsumi: like,
[3:04] Kanji Tatsumi: bong water, or something.
[3:05] Naoto Shirogane: If I did that, I'd more than likely have to turn myself in.
[3:05] Naoto Shirogane: After getting my stomach pumped at the hospital.
[3:05] Naoto Shirogane: So,
[3:05] Naoto Shirogane : No thank you, Kanjo
[3:06] Kanji Tatsumi: ...
[3:06] Naoto Shirogane: That wasn't a typo.
[3:06] Kanji Tatsumi: Suuurree...
[3:06] Kanji Tatsumi: It must be getting past your bedtime, huh?
[3:07] Naoto Shirogane: Well, it's not my fault you asked me to stay up with you to watch that movie
[3:07] Kanji Tatsumi: You didn't have to say yes, you know.
[3:07] Naoto Shirogane: Whatever.
The taller first-year let out a yawn as he typed out his next reply to the the other first-year laying next to him. He could feel his eyes becoming heavy, but he wanted to stay up longer. He wanted to keep texting her.
Now, he didn't really care that she was in the same bed, he was just content being like this. Some kind of relaxed state of happiness that he felt whenever the two joked around like this; he hoped she was feeling this way, too. She probably was. Anything, he thought to himself, he would do anything to keep things like this. Though, he wouldn't mind if they could get closer, either. Just as long as nothing was ruined.
The delinquent's heart began to pound as he remembered the kiss she had given him the other night. He wanted to return it. He knew he could have, he knew that there was nothing stopping him from turning around that very instant, pulling the blanket off of the detective's covered head, and placing his lips right over her cheek. He knew that, but he still didn't. He just continued to text her, his heart still pounding in his chest throughout the night.
Naoto awoke suddenly to a loud thud. Heavy eyes scanning the room, she saw the delinquent hunched over, one hand atop his sewing table and the other holding his foot.
"Shit," she then heard him whisper. He cautiously turned his head back towards the detective laying in his bed. "Oh, uh," he started after seeing that he had woken her up. "Sorry, I didn't, uh, mean to wake you."
The first-year just looked at him with squinted eyes, still a bit groggy. "Uh," he began again. "I'm just gonna go." He then turned back forward and left the room.
The detective laid there, trying to collect herself after the sudden wake. Taking a deep breath, she turned onto her back. It smelt like fabric softener with small hints smoke, but something a bit more, a bit familiar, yet so far away, the bed she was on. Her heart then started to pound as she realized she wasn't in her room. Quickly sitting up, she looked around, remembering whose room it was that she was sleeping in. It was Kanji's room that she was in; Kanji's bed that she had been laying upon.
Sticking her hand under her, or rather the delinquent's pillow, she pulled out her phone. Her heart beat as she went through the messages, showing that the night, or very early morning, before wasn't a dream.
She placed her phone on the pillow beside hers, then flopped back down, taking another deep breath of the bed she was in. Yes, she thought to herself, this definitely was Kanji's bed; it smelt just like him. If only, she joked, she could wake up here every morning.
Remembering the messages they had sent, she didn't exactly know why she had texted him in the first place, but by the end of it, she knew; not why she had texted him, but that he was the one, the one that she was always going to be in love with. She wanted to tell him last night. After that last "goodnight" that he had texted her, she wanted to tell him. She could have, she knew. Just those three simple words, and it would have been done. But she didn't, so she just laid there, her heart beating and those three words on the tips of her fingers, ready to be sent, but not ready to be known.
Laying there, she just thought about him. She thought about his bleached hair, his piercings, his scar. She remembered his back and the feel of it against hers. She thought about his clumsy hands, his clumsy self. She thought about how flustered he got whenever embarrassing questions were asked, how red he turned whenever he made a fool of himself in front of her. She remembered how red he had gotten when she had given him a kiss. She remembered the feel of his hands around her waist those times he had helped her through the door.
She wanted to feel his hands. She wanted to feel them around her waist once more. She wanted to feel his lips. She wanted to feel them against her cheek, against her own lips; she wanted to feel them running down her neck, over her shoulder, trailing down her collarbone. She wanted him all over her. She wanted to give herself to him.
His hands, she thought. She wanted his hands over her waist, her stomach, her hips. She wanted his hands to roam free around her body, exploring all the places that she never wanted to acknowledge as a part of herself. She wanted him to acknowledge them for her.
It was him that she wanted to come to whenever she needed someone to talk to, for she knew he would listen. It was him that she wanted to come to her whenever she needed help, for she knew he would, being such the gentleman he was.
And god, she knew, it was pathetic. It was pathetic how much she was in love with him. It was pathetic how much she wanted to tell him. And it was pathetic how she could, but didn't.
Suddenly sitting up, she decided that she shouldn't linger on it much longer, for that would have been even more pathetic.
Feeling a sudden hunger for food, she turned towards the digital clock on the delinquent's nightstand. It was already half past noon. Taking a deep breath, she wondered how late they had stayed up. But it didn't matter; as long as she was able to stay up with the other first-year, she didn't care how late she slept.
Naoto swung her legs over the side of Kanji's bed, her blanket wrapped over her shoulders and her hair still ruffled.
Making her way to the kitchen, she could smell food being made. The taller boy was in front of the stove and obviously making something. The detective felt her stomach growl. Walking up beside him, she saw eggshells and various items needed for chopping up vegetables spread over the kitchen counter. Naoto looked over to the stove to see that the other first-year was making an omelette.
"Oh, uh," she heard him start. "Good morning."
She looked up at him and gave him a nod in response. "Good morning, Kanji." She looked back down at the cooking food. It wasn't exactly morning, she remembered. "Or I suppose it's a good afternoon," she continued, looking back up at him.
"Huh? Oh," he replied. She thought she could see a vague blush come across his cheeks. "Yeah, I guess."
Looking back down at the food, she heard the delinquent begin to say something again. "I figured you'd be kinda hungry, too," he mumbled as Naoto stood next to him. "So I decided to make, uh, something to eat."
"Oh. Thank you, Kanji-kun," she started, blushing a bit. "But you don't really have to-"
"Naw, man; it's cool," he said. "Besides, you're the guest." The detective nodded in response. "Er," he began again. "Sorry if it's not that good."
"Well," she replied, looking back around the kitchen counter. "It doesn't seem like you used any out-of-the-ordinary ingredients." She then turned back towards the stove. "And it smells fine, in my opinion."
"Oh, uh," he replied. "I guess."
"And besides," the detective added, with a small laugh. "As long as you're not one of the other girls, you'll probably do fine."
"Oh, yeah," Kanji said with another small laugh. "Probably."
The two stood side-by-side as the taller one cooked and the shorter just watched. Naoto felt the heat of the stove as she stood there. And she wanted to stand there forever, right by his side.
"The party's today, right?" she heard him ask, still keeping his eyes on the cooking food.
Naoto nodded in response. "Yes, at 7." The taller boy gave another nod, his attention still on the food. She wondered how things would go at the party. The detective knew she wasn't that big of a party animal, and that she wasn't exactly the type to socialize and mingle with others. Was she just supposed to sit there with her broken leg and wait until the party ended? And really, she thought to herself, inviting a detective police officer to a high school party wasn't exactly one of Rise's best idea. If there was alcohol, she knew, there would be some trouble. And, really, with a party where literally anyone could have been invited, literally anyone could bring some form of illegal substance, and that was where she was supposed to draw the line. Not that Naoto wasn't able to make a few exceptions, she thought as she remembered Kanji and his involvement with his own illegal substances.
Though, she told herself, she was in high school, and the party probably would have things that one of those stereotypical high school parties would have, so maybe, just maybe, she would be able to make one more exception.
"Oh," Kanji began, reaching up towards a nearby cabinet. She then remembered the exception she had made with Kanji, just only barely blushing. If, she thought to herself, he did smoke, more than likely he would drink, at least a little bit. she ten wondered if being more laid back, more forgiving and willing to make exceptions, he'd come to like her more.
He pulled out a glass and handed it to the detective standing by him. "I guess you're still thirsty," he said with a laugh. "There's water in the fridge."
"Thanks," she said, taking the cup. She then looked back up at him with a playful smile. "Not bong water, I hope?"
He gave a snort in reply. "No, sorry about that."
Walking over to the refrigerator, Naoto noticed that she and Kanji were probably the only ones home, or his mother was tending the shop. "Is your mother away again?" the detective asked as she made her way back to the delinquent's side after filling up her cup.
"Huh?" He shifted his gaze towards her while trying to flip the egg. "Yeah." Naoto watched as the delinquent rolled the food in the pan, her stomach empty. She looked around the kitchen once more, noticing that the taller boy wasn't using any cooking guides or books.
"I guess if she was here, she'd be the one making food right now," he added as he poured more egg into the pan. "That, or she'd be asking us why we woke up so late." He paused for a second, tilting the pan to spread the egg. "Well, I mean, it's not like we were doing anything, uh," he stopped, probably too flustered to go on.
"R-right," Naoto replied, trying not to blush. The two stood there in an awkward silence as the egg in the square pan simmered on.
"But, y'know," Kanji started, breaking it, "I had fun, uh..." It was obvious that he was still a little flustered. "Staying up and, er..."
"I enjoyed your company, as well," Naoto said for him, noticing that he was having trouble with that last part.
"Yeah," the other first-year said, turning back towards the stove.
She could have told him, she told herself, she could have. Just those three words. She had already gotten one down; why couldn't she have said the other two? She meant it, she really did. And it was him that she meant it for. She had already said it countless times in her head, she knew; so why couldn't she say it out loud? She felt as though her heart was going to burst.
Looking up at the delinquent, they were close together again, but this time on their own accord. She could have chosen to step away, but she didn't. She wanted to stay this close to him. He, too, could have taken a bit of a step away, but he didn't.
That first night, in the hallway, he had smelt of smoke. The night after, he had smelt of dish soap. The next night was the smell of, well, bong water. And last night, she thought, though it wasn't exactly him, his bed had smelt of him. And now, although it's not exactly him, she could smell the omelette being made by him. All of those smells, she thought to herself, they were all him now. They are, and will always be, reminders of him from now on.
She wondered if he was thinking of her. She wondered if he thought of her. She wondered if he thought of her the same way she thought of him. No, she told herself, probably not. Why not? Because she was just some boyish girlish thing that no "real man" like Kanji would ever really want. Someone like Kanji, she thought, someone like him deserved the best. He deserved someone who had their life in order. He deserved someone who had their all of their, for lack of a better term, shit sorted out, someone who wasn't her.
Naoto? Who's "Naoto"? Are they a child or adult? Girl or boy? Black or white? None, she thought to herself, she was none of them. She was all grey. Why would anyone have wanted her? She was just some mismatched doll unable to be sorted. She was just-
The detective's train of thought was interrupted when she felt the delinquent's lips upon her cheek. Her heart started to race and her stomach flew. Taking his lips away from her face, Kanji straightened back out in front of the stove. Naoto could feel her face start to heat up as she saw from her peripheral the other first-year's face becoming red as well.
"That was, uh," he started, still red. "That was for a lot of things. But, uh, it wasn't really for anything at the same time," he continued, obviously very flustered. "I mean- uh, how do I put this," the taller boy said, turning the heat on the stove down and then bringing a hand up to the back of his head and clearly becoming even redder. "I know I didn't have to do it, or anything, but, uh, you also did a lot of stuff for me, and it would be kinda, er, nice? Uh, like, it would be a nice thing to do, y'know? But I know I didn't have to do it, so, uh, it wasn't forced or anything..."
The detective just stood there, still trying to take in what had happened. "Look, uh, I guess what I'm trying to say is I wanted to do it? Yeah, that's it," he started again, seeming to be much more confident with his reasons. "I... wanted to do it."
Naoto still stood there, her heart still racing. It became silent again, but the detective didn't mind the awkwardness much as she was still in disbelief. She felt as though her heart was about to burst.
Kanji looked back down at the omelette, seemingly a bit anxious. "Uh," he started. "The tamagoyaki's just about ready so, uh..." He looked over to Naoto, who was still standing there. "...you can sit down, if you want."
She nodded dumbly in response, her cheeks flaming. Walking over to the table, she looked down at the glass in her hands. The top of the water was rippling from the trembling of her hands.
Stupid, she thought to herself, stupid, stupid, stupid. It was everything, just everything about it that was stupid. It was stupid how Kanji had tried to explain his reasoning behind his sudden action, not that Naoto had needed a reason anyway. It was stupid how she just stood there, like a fool and unable to do anything when his lips came in contact with her face. It was stupid how her train of thought had just completely shifted after that one act. And it was stupid, she knew, how hard she had fallen for him and how much she wanted him to do it again.
Sitting down at the table, she then took a deep breath. Still though, she told herself. He had kissed her. She didn't kiss him, or at least not this time, but he had kissed her. An embarrassed smile began to come over her face as she took a sip of water. Though it was only on the cheek, she still couldn't help but feel her heart pound.
As she took the glass away from her face, she looked back down at it. She wondered if this was how Kanji felt when she had kissed him. No, she then thought to herself, he couldn't have possibly felt this way, because he didn't feel the same way about her as she did with him.
She saw a familiar hand place the omelette on the table and looked up to see the other first-year's own flushed face. "Here you go," he mumbled as he pushed the plate to the middle of the table. "I'll, uh, I'll go get a couple of plates." The detective nodded dumbly as she watched the delinquent walk away.
AN: tamagoyaki, a.k.a some kind of japanese omelette? it's kinda like scrambled egg omelette cake, in a way. i'd try to make some if egg wasn't one of my least favorite foods. and if i had the correct cookware.