[now]
"You didn't have to do anything," Yosuke snarls. "And all you did was lie to us, start to finish!"
"No. I honestly wanted to solve the case at first, I promise." Naoto turns and looks directly at Souji. "But she preys upon the weak."
Souji's eyes flicker with something Kanji can't quite place, but he says nothing. He swallows, hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Wh-who're you talking about? Who's she?"
"I couldn't fight her." Naoto keeps going like he hadn't spoken. "I'd already taken the first step of my own accord, the instant I pushed Kubo in." Her gaze drops to the ground. "She promised me respect. That people would see me the way they should. That was the second dream."
"Naoto, you aren't making sense," says Yukiko, low and gentle. "What did you dream?"
"There was a road, red and black." She's answering Yukiko but staring at Souji again; like he's the only other person there. "Through the fog. After the first, I could enter the television. You remember all this, don't you? You remember?"
For a long moment, Souji says nothing. Then, he shakes his head.
"You will," she insists, more resigned than confident. "The second was after Kubo, when she promised I would--" The rest stops short. "But I wasn't who she wanted. Just a late addition, a spare. And I failed. I couldn't become what Adachi would've been."
"Because we stopped you," Chie says firmly.
Naoto shakes her head. "Because I stopped you."
[then]
Kanji's working at the shop the following afternoon when Souji calls. Nanako's still in a coma, he says, but the doctors say her vital signs are much better. He wants everyone to meet at the hospital - and he wants Kanji to bring Naoto.
Kanji tells him he's got no problem with that, except Naoto's capable of getting there herself and she'll be pissed as hell if he shows up to babysit her.
"Just trust me," Souji says quietly, then hangs up.
When Kanji shows up at her apartment, hands shoved in his pockets and feeling like an idiot, Naoto doesn't get mad. Doesn't ask why Souji sent him, doesn't look surprised.
"It's cold out," he tells her, gesturing at her thin jacket. "Should put on a scarf or something."
"I don't think that will be necessary - but thank you." Then she takes his hand, tucks hers in against his glove, and leads him down the steps.
By the time they reach the hospital, everyone else is already there. The atmosphere's completely different from last night; almost like they're back in that room, with Namatame curled on the floor and cold air blowing through the open window.
"Hi, Naoto." Souji stands in the center of the corridor, flanked by the team; face expressionless.
Naoto nods. "Senpai."
"I've been thinking about something," he tells her. "So I wanted to ask you some questions."
"I'm sure," she says - and Kanji feels her hand slip out from his grasp.
"You said Namatame had no reason to kidnap Nanako, because he'd seen Mitsuo return safely." Souji pauses. "You know what that means, right?"
Naoto nods again.
"Was it a slip, or a hint?"
"I don't believe that's your real question, Senpai."
There's something wrong. Kanji doesn't understand any of this. He tries to resist the urge to take Naoto away, make Souji stop asking stupid questions, get someone to explain what the hell's being said.
"No. It isn't." Souji pauses. "Who threw Nanako into the television?"
Naoto just stares at him. "You've worked that out, haven't you?"
No. No way.
Kanji tries to swallow, can't, because this is when everything gets ripped inside out. "No, no, no," he stutters, stuck on that one word like it's lodged in his throat. "It, it wasn't you, it wasn't, you ran to the house and--"
"Namatame was there when I arrived," Naoto says quietly, one hand playing with the collar of her shirt. "I told him the police would arrive shortly, and threatened to shoot him. He ran. I didn't believe him foolish enough to jump in the television."
Chie gasps. "Then you--"
"Yes."
Souji tilts up his chin, expression perfectly level and terrifyingly blank. "And Kubo?"
"Yes."
"You - I didn't believe Souji, I didn't - but you--" Yosuke, shaking with anger, is barely able to speak. "You were--"
But Naoto's already backing away, step by step. She glances at Kanji, and he thinks he should do something here, he's supposed to--
Rise darts forward. "Naoto-kun, wait!"
The scene shatters - and Naoto spins on her heels and breaks into a run down the corridor.
[now]
"The original plan was for you all to throw Namatame in. I would suggest the idea and your own rage would see it through." Naoto doesn't look at any of them, just at the fog. "You would never suspect me, especially after I made efforts to befriend you all."
Rise gasps. "Wait, you mean you--" She glances from Naoto to Kanji to Chie and Yukiko. "We were friends!"
For the first time, Naoto face creases in anger. "You three claimed me as your own," she snaps, with a sweep of her hand towards the three girls. "I'm nothing like you! Not weak, not pathetic, not pitiful."
None of them answer. They just stare, eyes wide, mouths open.
She turns to Yosuke. "You did nothing but tease me to mask your own insecurities. Not as useless as you claimed, am I?"
"No, you're worse," Yosuke spits, "I should've--"
Then Teddie. "You are an anomaly, nothing more."
Teddie, half-cowering behind Souji's back, clutches at the sleeve of his shirt and shivers.
And finally, Naoto turns to Souji himself. "And you, Seta - you are what I could have been, should have been, if I hadn't been born--" She stops short. Her hands ball into small fists. "If things had gone right." She says nothing about Kanji - just glances at him quickly, then looks away from them all again, back into the fog. He isn't sure if that makes it worse.
"But, despite all this, everything--I, I honestly wanted to be your friend." She tugs at her cap again; the gesture's still achingly familiar, but this time it rings true. "I wanted to try. You all treated me well. But it wouldn't work."
"Just like your Shadow," Souji says, shaking his head. "Back and forth. Two conflicting desires."
He's right, that's the worst part. Kanji thinks he should have seen this coming. Naoto might've kept the truth wrapped in so many lies that even her Shadow couldn't untangle it - but it said enough, if only they'd been paying attention.
Naoto nods. "I believe it was accurate. And I believe that is why I failed so badly." She lifts her hands and splays her fingers, inspecting them closely. "Weak in body, weak in mind."
"No, no you're not." Kanji insists, stepping forward, jaw tightening. "You're strong, Naoto, you can stop this."
"I've already committed my crimes. Attempted murder, two counts. Almost three."
But that isn't her. Naoto doesn't do that stuff; she's smart, together, more than anyone Kanji's ever known. "But Adachi was the only killer," he persists, because she's still wrong and all he has to do is make her see it. "Namatame, Mitsuo, Nanako, they're all fine. You didn't--"
Her voice is thin and shot through with desperation. "I would have, Kanji. I took my actions knowing full well that was the most likely outcome. As did Adachi."
"But the difference is you--"
"There is no difference, Kanji. None at all."
Kanji wants to say, of course there is, and there was one big thing that should've stopped you from doing this. The words die on his tongue. Instead he watches her, hammering heart trapped in his throat.
Naoto folds her arms; eyes already glowing a deeper yellow. "Adachi once told me that people with talent had a magic ticket. That they were guaranteed success." She shakes her head. "They aren't. It's nothing to do with talent. Everything is purely perception. And I will never defeat that."
Chie cuts in. Kanji had almost forgotten the others were there. "Look, Naoto, we know you never got what you wanted from the police. They didn't take you seriously. But we do."
"Your approval means nothing." Naoto sighs, more a breath of air than a sound. "And I think we've reached an impasse."
There's the sense of something slipping through his fingers, no matter how hard he tries to keep it or how tight he holds on. "No, no. We haven't, Naoto, it's okay, I promise. We can just go back, yeah?" Of course they can, she understands that, it's not like they need to do this and she's never liked things that aren't necessary. "I promise, we can just--"
"I'm tired, Kanji. I can't do this anymore." And there's something in the way she says it that makes him want to run forward, pull her towards him and not let go, not even if it means--
"Naoto." Souji's voice is almost gentle. "Do you regret your actions?"
She draws in a breath that she never lets out. Her arms and legs are already swathed in black. "I can't answer that. I'm sorry." The black smoke climbs higher, twists around her as her eyes glow brighter - and the fog cracks with light and the roar of rushing wind, shattering glass.
Naoto drops to her knees, her Persona hovering in the air behind, but it isn't Sukuna Hikona. It's like one of Souji's, Kanji thinks, though he can't remember its name. Metal helmet and a spear, except it looks different; stark lines again, shaded black and white, a monochrome mosaic. He sees what might be chains on its arms, what could be a blindfold over its mask.
"Izanagi," Souji murmurs.
Naoto climbs to her feet. When she speaks, the fog echoes. "Our time is up. End this."
[then]
But before that, before the hospital, before she tells them and everything falls apart, there's the previous night. At around five, Kanji arrives back at the store from Naoto's place and goes straight to his room. Doesn't even talk to Ma. Inside, he closes the blinds and lays on his bed.
No reason to stay. Not even him.
There's nothing to do but lay there listening to the noise of his mother moving round the store below. Probably cleaning; people are too spooked by the fog to do much shopping and she's never been one to stand still. He hears her humming to herself, the sound of the broom sweeping across the floor - but still almost misses her calling upstairs, saying he has a visitor.
"Tell 'em I'm busy!" he shouts, but he can already hear footsteps on the stairs - and then Naoto's standing in the doorway of his room.
She tips up her cap. "Forgive me for barging in."
"Door wasn't shut." He sits up, head turned away. "Why're you here."
"I...I wanted to apologize."
Kanji knows he's supposed to be angry - and he is, maybe, or he was. Then he looks back at her; arms wrapped round herself, staring at the floor, looking small.
He sighs. "C'mon, sit down."
She hesitates, just for a moment, then stiffly walks over to the bed and sits down next to him.
"I'm running out of time, Kanji. There's something happening, or it's already happened - something I need to apologize for." She takes a breath; lets it out unsteadily. "I'm sorry."
So she is going to leave, he thinks. "When were you gonna tell me?"
"Soon."
"Should've said before. We could've talked."
"I know. And you--you're a reason to stay." Naoto's hand tangles in the sheets. "But I can't."
A cold, heavy weight settles inside him; like a block of ice. He tries to swallow it down, but his mouth is dry. "I know the case'll be done soon. We'll figure out who really did it. But I was hopin' you'd..."
He doesn't finish the sentence though, because even if she's leaving, it's not like she'll go forever. She'll visit, maybe, or he'll go see her. He's only been outside Inaba twice, it'll be interesting. It's not like she's trying to get rid of him, and that's what counts.
He flops onto his side then tugs at her sleeve, pulling her down next to him. Naoto grabs his right hand and tries to slot her fingers through the gaps between his. With the two of them lying face to face, inches apart, Kanji thinks, maybe it'll be all right.
"I'm sorry," Naoto says again.
Despite the difference in size, their fingers still fit. He twines them closer together and presses his forehead against hers. "Don't worry," he whispers. "S'fine."
[now]
Amaterasu's wings swathe Yukiko in fire and the air behind Souji explodes with light. Chie's down on her knees and Rise keeps telling Kanji to snap out of it, help her up, but he can't move.
Naoto clutches her head, readying another Megidola - the last one would've taken them all out if not for the barrier Souji threw up seconds before it hit - and Kanji just watches.
She still hasn't used light or dark.
He's called Ziodyne half a dozen times but only hit her on three. Rokuten Maou won't listen right. Everything's wrong, the world tilted off its axis - and he was too, right from the start.
[then]
The fog's turning darker outside the window, peppered with fuzzy street lights, and Ma's closing the store below. Lying on his back, Kanji stares at the ceiling.
They should get up before the last bus leaves. He needs to walk Naoto down to the stop. Then he looks down at her, curled up in the curve of his arm, head tucked against his shoulder, and he thinks, just a little longer.
[now]
The black and white Izanagi shimmers, vanishes, and Naoto falls to her hands and knees. Souji's the first to her side, with Kanji moments behind.
"I'm sorry," she chokes out, still looking down.
I hate you, Kanji almost says, thinks he should say, but it freezes on his tongue before the first syllable. He's a lousy liar. "It's okay, s'okay, Naoto. Don't worry."
"Don't talk," Souji tells her. "We need to heal you before we leave." He turns, probably to call Teddie or Yukiko, but Naoto grabs his sleeve.
"L-Leave me here." She coughs and almost drops to the floor. "D-don't need to kill me. Just go."
Kanji wraps an arm around her shoulders to hold her steady. "No way. We ain't gonna leave you here, we ain't like that."
"We're taking you back." Souji pries her hand from his sleeve and squeezes it tight.
"No, no," Naoto insists, with a fierce shake of her ahead. She looks up at Kanji, eyes wide. "You, you tell him, I can't--"
"You can, Naoto. I know y'can."
She's always tried to hide her feelings, but sometimes the mask slips. Kanji's learned to recognize the signs: the white ridges of her knuckles, the thin line of her lips, the way her jaw tightens when she's trying not to cry. "Nothing left," she manages. "Can't go back."
"You want to face justice, right?" Souji says, slipping one arm under hers, ready to lift, as Kanji follows his lead. "Take responsibility?"
"Ch-charges won't stick."
"I know." They pull her to her feet. "But you have to face what you've done. You know that."
Naoto nods weakly. Souji returns it, brisk and firm - like he can force the strength back into her, if he just tries hard enough. He glances at Kanji, gives him this look, then walks away to fetch Teddie.
"I'm sorry," Kanji whispers, holding Naoto up under her shoulders. "Didn't want to fight you."
"D-don't be. My choice," she tells him, fingers clutching at his shirt. "All of it."
[end]
The police don't believe her, of course. Naoto insists on telling them anyway when they come to Junes. Whole story, even though it's all broken up and most of it doesn't make sense even to Kanji. When she gets to the part about throwing Kubo in the television, the two cops just stare at her. They take her away anyway, mostly because she insists, but since they won't let the team follow everyone filters off home. Rise walks with Kanji, tries to cheer him up, but she's on the verge of tears herself and none of it really works.
He doesn't sleep the whole night.
Early next morning, Souji calls. The cops checked Naoto into the hospital. Didn't know what else to do with her. Souji's somehow persuaded Dojima to pull some strings, get the doctors to let her have a couple of visitors. "Come with me to see her," he tells Kanji.
Kanji tries to talk Souji out of it; himself out of it, too. But it's an order, not a request, and he ends up in a cold and too-brightly lit waiting room all the same. Souji's sitting beside him on those stupid hard chairs they always stick in hospitals, like people don't already feel bad enough.
He heard people whispering on the bus here. Word is the Detective Prince finally cracked. Stress of the case.
"Fog still hasn't lifted," Souji murmurs, legs stretched out like he'd fallen in the chair. "I thought it would."
Kanji swallows. "Ain't you pissed?"
"Yeah. I am. More than you'd believe." He pauses. "But there's more to it. There's something Naoto knows."
"Yosuke and Chie think she's crazy."
"I don't think so. Just weak, insecure, selfish. Maybe lonely." Souji closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. "I'm not sure if that makes it worse."
Kanji, who thinks he already knows, says nothing.
"But I need to talk to her. Those dreams she was having..." Eyes open, Souji trails off to stare at the ceiling.
"You think they made her do this?"
"Not completely. I think she wanted--"
Sharp footsteps sound down the corridor. A nurse rounds the corner and walks up to their seats. "Tatsumi and Seta, correct?" They nod, and she returns it. "Shirogane-san is ready. Keep the visit brief, please."
Kanji jumps to his feet and turns to Souji - who shakes his head.
"Go see her first. And remember, Kanji," he says, looking him in the eye, "without you, it could've been a lot worse."
Maybe he's right. Maybe not. It doesn't matter, because everything still went wrong. Kanji nods once, then follows the nurse down the hall.
Naoto's in a room by herself. Not as fancy as where they stuck Namatame, but still clean and bright even with the fog pressing against the window outside. Kanji looks at the white walls, the tiled floor, the metal bedframe - everywhere except at her.
"Kanji-kun," she says shakily. She's sitting on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. They've put her in just a t-shirt and shorts, taken away her cap, and none of it looks right.
"Yeah. S'me."
"Why are you here?"
"Souji told me you were here. Said I should come." He pauses. Shit, he might as well be honest. "And, and I wanted to."
Naoto nods. "Thank you. I, I know you hate these places."
A silence falls, the sort that Kanji thinks he can feel pressing down on him and pushing the air from his lungs.
"They'll transfer me tomorrow," she says. "Psychiatric ward. I-I think it's for the best."
"B-but you ain't crazy," he stutters out on reflex. "You're not--okay, you've done some shitty stuff, I won't deny it, but--"
"It's the only sort of justice I will face. In the eyes of the law I'm a child and there's no proof of my guilt." She pauses and bites her lip. Always does when she's nervous. Kanji's told her not to do it more times than he can count. "And maybe I am...unbalanced. I'm tired, Kanji, the dreams haven't..."
He sits on the bed next to her and grabs her hand. "They will, yeah? And maybe they were the reason you--y'know."
Naoto shakes her head. "Emptiness. That was what she saw. And so much of it was my own choice." She stares down at his hand, completely covering her own. "Souji is stronger. I still don't understand most of it. But he's better than me - no insecurities, no selfishness, no bitterness. Less for her to latch onto."
There's nothing he can say to that, except that he understands even less than her. When Naoto explained everything to the cops, it was just a jumble of words. Mixed up times and places and gaps she couldn't fill. The logic, the Naoto way of thinking, all of that had vanished.
"I, I'm writing something, to Nanako-chan," Naoto says, voice cracking on the last few syllables. She runs a hand through her hair, but her fingers catch on the knots and tangles. "I know she doesn't remember now. But perhaps when she's better and she's ready to know - even if it takes years."
"Yeah. I'll make sure. But you, you'll be back then."
Naoto gives him a tight smile that fades almost instantly. Again, she bites her lip. The skin's torn, like she's been doing it all night. "The ward. The new place. They--I don't think they'll let me see people, not at first."
Kanji swallows. "Later, maybe?"
"Maybe," she whispers, but she doesn't look him in the eye. So he takes her chin in his hand, just like before, strokes his thumb along her jaw - then tilts up her head and presses his lips against hers. Only a moment, it has to be, because if it's any more he thinks his chest might burst.
When he pulls back, he feels Naoto's jaw tense beneath his fingers and he swears her cheeks are wet, even if she doesn't (didn't) do that sort of thing. He lets go, then reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a battered old pocketwatch. It's kept ticking ever since she fixed it. His old man would be amazed.
"Here." He takes her hand, puts the watch inside the open palm and closes her fingers over the top. "Look after it for me."
Naoto frowns, confused, then shakes her head. "It's yours."
"S'fine," Kanji tells her, his own hand enveloping hers. "You can give it back to me later."