Spiral Earrings; A pair of simple but stylish silver earrings.

Naoto had worked on the story she would give Grandpa when he inevitably asked about the case in Inaba: more detailed than the official report, while working around any mention of Shadows, Personas, or the TV world. Kanji caught on and helped fill in the details of before Naoto had arrived, and by the time they arrested Adachi, the three had finished dinner and moved into the drawing room, where Yakushiji already had the fireplace roaring.

"And so this Adachi – he just gave himself up?" Naoto's grandfather asked, leaning forward over tented hands with interest.

"Once surrounded, he realized his game was over," Naoto recounted. "He came quietly." Her trigger finger twitched at the lie as she recalled the fight that had nearly claimed her and her friends' lives.

"Weren't for Senpai," Kanji growled, brandishing a knitting needle angrily, "I woulda pounded the sick bast – uh…" He trailed off, eyes darting between the two Shiroganes. Naoto was unfazed, used to his manner of speaking, and the elder detective just nodded knowingly.

"It is difficult to separate one's emotions from a case, especially when loved ones are involved," he said. "Back in my day…" As Grandpa launched into one of the many tales of his youth, Kanji picked his knitting back up, still listening with rapt attention. Naoto watched, fascinated, as his hands moved swiftly back and forth, up and down, a shape emerging from what looked to her like chaos. 'Graceful' was not a word she would have used to describe Kanji Tatsumi at first glance. She wondered if he was making anything in particular, or if he just needed to keep his hands busy. Perhaps he had a whole pile of 'scarves' sitting around in his room, born of a nervous habit. Naoto amused herself with this image until she noticed his hands falter for the first time, and she glanced up to catch Kanji, slightly pink, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She quickly looked away, pretending to be extremely interested in Grandpa's story, though her mind was elsewhere.

Kanji intrigued Naoto. At first, she hadn't thought he liked her at all. He never wanted to look her in the eye or speak to her in complete sentences, and she had wondered for a while if he was still mad at her for calling him odd when they first met. She had been a bit surprised to learn of his attraction to cute things, not because of his gender so much as the image he put out. She had come to the conclusion by now, however, that pink bunnies and leather jackets both reflected Kanji's personality. He was a bit rough around the edges, but honestly meant well, and was one of the kindest people she knew despite – or perhaps because of – his blunt way of saying things. It had been Kanji who had snapped her from more emotional stupors than she cared to admit to having. Slowly, he had warmed up to her, and Naoto found that, quite often, when he did have something to say, she enjoyed talking to him.

So, while she considered Kanji a dear friend, she was still mystified by the way he acted sometimes. The strange looks he gave her, the evidently random but frequent blush that darkened his face in her presence – she had her suspicions, of course, but nothing she dared follow to its logical conclusion for fear of the questions the answer would raise. Things were fine just as they were now, she told herself firmly whenever her thoughts started to wander that way.

"Oh, Grandpa, did I ever tell you…" In an attempt to keep her mind in check, Naoto forced herself back into the conversation. They carried on into the night, Naoto managing to keep herself distracted until the clock in the foyer bonged twelve times.

"Goodness, it's gotten late," her grandfather yawned, slowly getting to his feet. "You two have an early start tomorrow, hm? Perhaps you should turn in as well."

"We will, Grandpa," Naoto promised. "Good night." She turned pink but smiled ever so slightly as he kissed her softly on the top of her head.

"Good night, Naoto." With a nod to Kanji, he turned and left them alone. Though it was too dark to read without straining her eyes, Naoto picked up her book out of habit, holding it so that she could peek over the top at Kanji. She felt bad, ignoring him like before on the train, but it wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him. Small talk wasn't exactly either of their strong suits, and they were aware of that, so Naoto felt as if they had an understanding that it was better to simply share in each other's company than to attempt to chat when neither had anything to say. That wasn't to say theirs was an awkward silence, not anymore at least – as of late, she had described it as comfortable, familiar. Sometimes, sitting in silence with Kanji was than sitting in silence by herself, and she hoped he felt the same way.

"So…" After a few minutes, he spoke up. "Your granddad's pretty cool. All those cases and stuff sounded exciting."

"I'll admit, I'm a bit envious of some of the things he's done. I can't wait to see the world, experience everything for myself." Naoto felt a smile tug at her lips, and she lowered her book. "But in the meantime, he promised to get me a motorcycle and let me get my license when I turn 18."

Kanji grinned. "Nice. Just promise not to ride around an' keep people up all night, alright?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Naoto chuckled. The fire popped, and they were quiet once more. Naoto was overcome with the sudden urge to thank Kanji, to pick up where she had left off in the treehouse. She wanted to thank him for coming with her, for giving up his weekend to sit with her in a strange, empty house and visit with people he'd never known and never would know. For showing genuine interest when she spoke, for believing in her, for caring about her, for being someone she could care about, for –

For what? Kanji was a good friend, and for that she was grateful. To think about it any harder was…dangerous.

"What time we leavin' tomorrow?" Kanji asked, eyes fixed on his work. What had been three different skeins of yarn that afternoon was almost a rather adorable penguin now.

"An hour to the cemetery, three or so back to Inaba from there…" She closed her eyes, doing the math in her head again. "I'd like to leave around noon, so we don't get home too late."

"Cool with me," Kanji agreed. Glancing up, his hands slowed and his face grew pensive. Naoto jumped to her feet without thinking.

"Well, I – I'm going to try to get some rest, so. Good night."

Kanji looked a little taken aback by her abrupt declaration, but nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'm layin' down pretty soon here too." A minute passed in which they were both unsure of what to do next, then Kanji added, "So, uh, g'night, I guess."

"Good night," Naoto repeated, leaving her book on the coffee table and turning to leave. She crossed the foyer slowly, hesitating at the staircase and laying a hand over the rail. Steeling herself, she climbed the first step, then the next, traversing the familiar path to her bedroom with apprehension. Her bare feet made no noise against the polished hardwood floors even as she sped up, lending a stifling silence to the long walk. The already ancient lighting in the upper hallways had evidently been neglected after she moved out, so darkness pressed in on her as she felt for her door. When her hands finally found the smooth brass knob, Naoto quickly entered her room, switched on the light, and leaned back against the door, shutting it with more force than she intended. The long, empty hall hadn't frightened her – much – since she was a child, but she was glad to be out of it nonetheless. She changed out of her dirty clothes and crawled into bed without turning the lights off, curling into a ball and letting out a sigh.

It was good to be home, she had said earlier. Naoto tried to remember the last time she'd felt at home in this house. It always seemed too big whenever her parents went on a case, had never felt right since the one they didn't come back from. It wasn't that she didn't love her grandfather dearly, but there was always that terrible nagging in the back of her mind that someday soon, he would be gone too, and she really would be all alone with only books and memories to keep her company in this old mansion forever. The thought sent a chill down Naoto's spine, and she instinctively clutched her sheets, shutting her eyes tightly.

No. Don't think like that. Grandpa is strong and healthy, and…

And I don't have to be alone.

A year ago, Naoto couldn't say that she had even a single friend to her name. She had long since stopped attending school, and never stayed in one place long enough to befriend anyone there – not that she spent much time with anyone but police officers who resented her anyway. It had been enough of a shock to find a group of teenagers involved with the case in Inaba, and even more so that they'd seen her at her very worst, had nearly been killed for it, and still wanted her around. After the case was solved, they wanted her to stay with them, and Naoto hadn't realized until then how much she wanted to. She didn't have to be alone anymore. It was difficult, at first, to accept this idea, but she had slowly found herself growing attached to and comfortable with her friends to a point that surprised even herself.

Unlike most of Naoto's actions, asking Kanji to come with her on this trip had been a spur of the moment decision. If she could go back and think before opening her mouth, she never would have asked him, or anyone else for that matter. But now that he was here, Naoto was glad for the company. There was something comfortableabout Kanji, something that made her feel as if she could let him into her treehouse and talk to him about her silly toys and her past. One thing she'd discovered since joining the so-called Investigation Team was that the presence of a friend could bring at least a little comfort in even the darkest of situations. And if anyone had to be with her this weekend, Naoto needed someone who understood how she felt.

Thinking about what she had to do tomorrow made her stomach churn. It had been so long. Naoto reached up and grabbed the picture from her shelf, the last one taken before they went away. A charismatic, intelligent man; a kind, loving woman; a young girl photographed mid-laugh. She barely recognized any of them. The woman was wearing the earrings passed down from her own mother, that she promised would be Naoto's one day. When she was a big girl, they would go together and get her ears pierced. As a child, Naoto couldn't wait to be just like Mommy. What a disappointment she had turned out to be in reality.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the glass frame. A face that would stay too small, too soft, to pass for a male older than fifteen. She would never be a man, and it was only been a matter of time, she knew, before her disguise would have been next to impossible to keep up. But looking at her mother, beautiful yet strong, Naoto felt she could never be a good enough woman either.

In the novels she read, it was always a tough, hardboiled man who solved the crime and took down the villain. Women played the sidekick at best, or the femme fatale whose only role was to seduce the hero – but Naoto's mother blew them all away. She was one of the finest detectives of her time, strong mentally and physically, and in no way a sidekick to her husband. And despite the obstacles presented to a woman in her line of work, she even embraced her femininity. Every day for years, Naoto wished that she had that courage, courage to face the world without hiding – but she feared she didn't even know who she was behind her disguise.

Naoto looked again at her mother's image, and her fingers brushed her own bare earlobes, recalling Kanji mentioning he had done his own piercings. A thought flashed through her mind. She dismissed it at first, but it slowly crept back in. Climbing out of bed, Naoto crossed the room and opened her desk drawer, lifting the false bottom to reveal a stash of treasures. An autographed Featherman trading card, a few more family photos, and, further back, the earrings. From small silver studs hung loops of metal spiraling down around slender chains. She could remember admiring them as a child, the way they caught the light and twirled when her mother moved her head. By the time the earrings came into her possession, however, they had gone straight into her drawer. She couldn't very well wear them when she was trying to pass for a boy, and though she had toyed with the idea on and off since her identity had come out, she hadn't given the matter serious consideration until now.

She held one earring up to her ear, and heard that voice again. Do it. Right here, right now. A big step – she wasn't scared of being a girl – they would see how far she's come – she would show them – they'd be proud – she could do this – and before she was fully aware of having moved, Naoto found herself back in the drawing room, where Kanji had fallen asleep with his knitting. He was curled up on the couch near the fireplace, needles and yarn clutched tightly to his chest with one hand while the other dragged on the ground. The dying embers cast a shadow over his face, and in the dim light Naoto saw what she was looking for. Kanji had left his sewing kit on the table next to him, and though he shifted and mumbled something incoherent when Naoto moved to open it, he didn't wake up. Digging around inside, she located and extracted a long, sufficiently pointy safety pin from the bag and snuck down the hall to the bathroom.

Quietly shutting the door behind her, Naoto gripped the edge of the cold porcelain sink until her knuckles were equally white, staring down her reflection, daring it to show some sign of weakness. A scrawny girl in oversized pajamas frowned back at her. After five minutes of this, Naoto finally undid the safety pin and held it at eye level. Her hand shook only slightly as she pressed the sharp point against the center of her earlobe. Wait – hadn't Kanji said something about numbing it first? Had he said how? Naoto opened the medicine cabinet and scanned the shelves, but, drawing a blank, instead took out a bottle of rubbing alcohol for after the deed was done. She set it on the counter and once more put the pin to her ear. Enough dawdling, she told herself. Apply pressure and –

Ow. A tiny dot of red appeared under the pin's point. Her mistake was hesitating; just like ripping off a bandage, she decided, you had to do it swiftly and in one go. After cleaning the blood off the pin, Naoto took a deep breath and jammed it back into her ear, wincing and biting her lip to keep from crying out. She had only been at it for a few moments when a knock cut through the silence, and Kanji's bleary voice called softly through the door, "Hello? Anyone in there?" Startled, Naoto's hand jerked, and she yelped in surprise and pain.

"Naoto!" He sounded more alert now. "Are you alright?"

"No – yes – go away!" The childish cry was out of Naoto's mouth before she could stop it, and she yanked the pin out of her ear, cursing Kanji's timing. It hurt so much now that she'd never get up the nerve to try again.

"I'm coming in," Kanji yelled, and the doorknob rattled. Naoto clutched the sink, arms trembling, as the door slammed open to reveal Kanji standing in the threshold. Their eyes met in the mirror, Kanji's darting to the blood welling in Naoto's ear, and for a moment neither of them moved. Then a sob tore itself from Naoto's throat, and another, and she fell to her knees. Her breath came in short gasps, tears forming faster than she could wipe them away. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, no one was. She was strong, and she had been about to prove it, too.

Footsteps approached and she was effortlessly half-lifted, half-pulled into a sitting position against the wall. Something wet pressed against her ear; flinching at the sudden sting, Naoto looked up to see Kanji squatting in front of her with a wad of toilet paper and the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Come on," he sighed. "Y'had to know this was a bad idea if I did it. Now hold still." She was in no state to argue, so after a half-hearted attempt to push him away, Naoto allowed Kanji to continue cleaning her wound as she shuddered and stared at the ground. "You're lucky," he declared when he finished, setting the alcohol aside. "It's not too deep, an' it should heal up fine. Now, mind tellin' me what possessed you to stick a safety pin in your ear at one o' clock in the frickin' morning?"

"I'm a coward," Naoto choked out in response. "I haven't been to see them in years, you know. What would they think of me? I've been running away for so long. I couldn't face my parents like that. I thought I was ready, but I'm not. They'd be so disappointed if they could see me now."

"That's a load of bull," Kanji scoffed. He gruffly dropped onto the ground beside her, arms resting on his knees. Naoto blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Y'seriously think they'd be disappointed? You faced your weakness. That don' mean it's gonna be smooth sailin' for the rest of your life, but you're fightin' to overcome it anyway."

Naoto gaped at Kanji. He was watching her carefully, brow furrowed with worry. "But –"

"But nothin'. Your mom an' dad would be proud a' you," Kanji insisted.

Naoto sniffled, feeling stupider by the minute. "I just…"

"You're doin' your best. Can't ask for anything more'n that."

Naoto drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around herself. For all Kanji's encouragement, in this moment she felt like nothing more than a child. Not a detective, not a man or a woman, just lost. Another sob wrenched her body, and after a moment's hesitation, Kanji reached over and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. Naoto hiccupped, clenching her fists tightly. With shaky breaths, she attempted to swallow her tears and calm down.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Losing my composure like this…" She made to reach for her hat, but her hand only closed awkwardly over empty space and she turned away. "You must think me a fool."

"Nah. Well, maybe." The admission caused Naoto to whip her head back to face Kanji. He gave her a crooked grin. "You're too hard on yourself. You don' gotta be tough all the time. I mean, I know that's rich, comin' from me an' all, but 's alright to 'lose your composure' sometimes. An' it's good to share with people, too. I'm all kinds a' messed up," he laughed nervously, "so, y'know, you can always talk to me if you want. I'll listen."

Naoto hesitated, then her expression softened. She could sense Kanji's uncertainty, but it touched her deeply that he cared, and his words resonated somewhere inside of her. "Kanji-kun…thank you."

"Don' mention it," he muttered, nudging her with with shoulder. "What're friends for?"

"You're a very good friend," Naoto murmured, eyelids fluttering. Having more than surpassed her emotional limits for the night, she suddenly felt exhausted. She failed to stifle a yawn as tiredness crashed over her so hard it was nearly dizzying. Kanji shifted, and Naoto nearly fell into his lap – funny, she didn't remember leaning on him in the first place. She righted herself, and Kanji stood up with a loud grunt, offering Naoto a hand. She took it gratefully, noting how small her own were in comparison as he heaved her up. She attempted to stand as tall and with as much dignity as someone who had just been crying in a bathroom could, despite practically being asleep on her feet, wobbling only slightly as she did so.

"Ti–iiired?" Kanji yawned, stretching his arms behind his head. "Know I am."

"I'm sorry," Naoto mumbled. "I didn't intend for you to go out of your way to –"

"No – crap, I didn't mean it like that," Kanji groaned. "It's fine, this ain't about me. Y'aint a bother or anything."

Naoto shifted, unsure of how to respond. "R-right. Um. Well, we should return to our rooms and try to get some sleep. It's gotten late, and we do need to get up in the morning."

"Yeah," Kanji agreed. Tossing the safety pin in the trash with the wadded toilet paper, he walked Naoto to her room in silence. He stayed close enough that she was aware of how he didn't quite touch her, and she wasn't sure if she was grateful or disappointed. When they reached her door, Kanji hovered at the threshold for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck and looking at her with a slight frown.

"Look, don' do anything else stupid, all right? Or let me know when you're plannin' on it at least, so I can knock some sense into ya." His eyes flicked to the doorframe, the ceiling, the floor, back to her face, and the ceiling again. "I – I'll always be around, y'know. I mean, not, like, in a creepy way, but like, I'm here for ya. I-if ya want me. Here. Around. Or – or far, far away. Wherever." He looked like he wished for nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow him whole, but Naoto took comfort in his familiar uncertainty. Even after seeing her in such a pathetic state, he was still the same Kanji she knew and…

…and?

When Naoto was around Kanji, she felt more than ever the distance between herself and others, yet felt he tried the hardest to cross it. In return, she was starting to give in, to let him see parts of herself she'd hidden away long ago. As she opened up, not once had he disappointed her; not once had he treated her like a child or belittled the emotions she failed to suppress. For all his frankness, she knew and appreciated that Kanji spoke from concern – and perhaps that was what allowed her to step back and objectively see that she had acted rashly. Somewhere along the way, she had begun to trust him on a different level than the bond she and her friends all shared.

And now something was changing, try as she might to deny it. Naoto had tried to label their relationship as 'mutually beneficial,' an 'exchange of confidence,' and a dozen other names to make it sound as if her reliance on Kanji was strictly business. Like she could apply logic to the way she let her guard down around him, or explain away how she felt better after talking to him even though she didn't really feel any better. It was confusing, but the explanation for her confusion, she knew, was quite simple. She finally decided that in the midst of everything else, it was time to accept the simplest emotion of the tangled mess in her head and her heart right now.

She had fallen for Kanji.

She wasn't about to shout it from any rooftops, nor did her heart feel as if it would burst, as she'd so often heard other girls in her class say, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was true. And while admitting it didn't suddenly make everything better – in fact, she would have described her reaction as slightly terrified – it was cathartic, almost, that there was anything right now with a cut-and-dry answer. Looking up at Kanji's conflicted face, Naoto almost felt bad for indentifying her feelings and immediately setting them off to the side in a corner of her mind marked "to be dealt with at a later date," but knew they'd both be better off taking their time. She just couldn't bring herself to think about romance right now, and she had a feeling that he would understand.

"Thank you, Kanji-kun," she said quietly, attempting to smile at him without really feeling it. She couldn't find the right words for her gratitude, to tell Kanji she wanted him around, she wanted him here, wherever 'here' may be – some genius she was – so she settled for adding, "Really."

He cleared his throat, worry still clouding his expression. "Y-yeah." Letting out a long breath, Kanji pursed his lips. "Look, get – get some sleep, all right? We can leave whenever you want, I don't mind getting home late. I'll see ya tomorrow." With a nod and an awkward little wave, he turned and made his way down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at her every few feet.

"Good night," Naoto called softly, slipping into her room. She immediately hobbled to her bed and dropped into it, barely mustering the energy to burrow under the covers. In spite of her drooping eyelids, her head was running wild with memories of her parents, of every face that had ever looked upon her with disdain, of Kanji. They danced across her mind until she felt like exploding, hours crawling by before sleep finally overcame her, replacing her thoughts with half-remembered dreams of earrings and safety pins until morning.