A/N: Story so far: Kanji tried to be Naoto's television-diving white knight. Naoto responded by calling him and Rise stupid (or by trying her best to educate them, depending on who you ask).

In this brief interlude: Naoto struggles to correct her mistake (and, at times, acknowledge that she made one).

EDIT: Apparently there were some formatting issues that chopped lines out of this chapter. My fault. Should be fixed now.

The delay was irrational.

Excluding her kidnapping, Naoto had entered the television only twice: once to summon her Persona, and once to fight her first Shadow. The last excursion had been eight days ago. No further training sessions had occurred since and none of the team seemed willing to discuss the case.

Distracted by their studies, perhaps. There were the exams to consider. With the exception of Amagi-senpai and Seta-san, the academic performances of Naoto's schoolmates ranged from mediocre to disastrous - which had been the impetus behind her offer of assistance to Rise-san and Kanji-kun. Seta-san had mentioned that neither were sufficiently devoted to their studies. Naoto had consequently anticipated some resistance, perhaps even a degree of awkwardness - but there was awkwardness, and then there was hostility.

(Nothostile-newfriends-tryharder-tryharder)

Sukuna-Hikona, of course. Her jaw tightened. Be quiet. And slow down when you speak.

Her behavior had been perfectly reasonable. Perfectly. Or so she'd tried to convince herself, walking home from Junes after Kanji's departure and mentally reviewing her actions. By eight in the evening, she'd decided that her tutoring method had not been suited to the situation - and that perhaps, in a certain context, her comments could possibly be seen as ill-considered. Another hour had passed before she'd tapped out a message to Kanji and quickly hit the send button.

Naoto had been startled when he'd replied to the first. She'd waited thirty minutes before accepting the second and third had been ignored.

Sukuna-Hikona buzzed at her again: something about phrasing the apology incorrectly, perhaps, or that the timing had been wrong, or that Kanji had simply been sidetracked. A rapid-fire barrage of explanations and justifications, the Persona unable to finish one before switching to another.

I don't know the rules, Naoto finally pointed out. Without that knowledge, any theory was mere conjecture.

The buzzing stopped.

It wasn't her fault. She'd tried. There had been no obligation for her to assist them to begin with, or even to offer, and if Kanji, or Rise, or the entire team were unable to accept her as she was – if Naoto was expected to reshape herself to fit others – then seeking their company was pointless. Needless. She would establish the alliance she'd originally planned: one that was practical, unambiguous, and purely professional.

In the cauterizing light of day, Naoto wondered how she'd ever believed that possible.

She swallowed, her steps quickening, and continued pacing the first-floor corridor. She'd expected too much. Expected others to prove rational. Which they never had and never would. But there had been nothing rational in losing her temper with Rise, or in implying Kanji was--

Head tilted down, Naoto had almost reached the door of the Practice Building when she slammed into something large, warm, and dressed in a Yasogami High uniform. She yelped, staggered backwards, glanced up - and met the gaze of a bemused-looking Souji Seta.

"Alright there, Naoto-kun?" he asked, hand outstretched.

She didn't take it, preferring to flail briefly with one arm until she righted herself. The girl standing next to Seta - an immaculately groomed blonde whom Naoto hadn't met but had seen hanging around the school gate - rolled her eyes.

"I-I apologize, Senpai. Are you injured?" Of course he wasn't. He'd barely have flinched.

"Nope. Don't worry about it. By the way, I heard you and Rise made up?"

How had he even heard about the disagreement? Had Kanji told him? Or Rise herself?

"No, I, I--" Naoto managed, without much idea of what she actually wanted to say.

Seta, meanwhile, smiled in a way that left her feeling both absurdly proud and approximately ten centimeters tall. "Glad to hear it."

The sentiment soon dissipated. His praise was undeserved. "I didn't--Kanji-kun, he's--"

"Through the door, in the Practice Building." Seta tipped his thumb over his shoulder. "Very responsible of you, Naoto-kun, wanting to make up."

"B-but I wasn't--"

The blonde girl's expression had turned unsettling. "Whatever. Just watch where you're going next time - and quit staring at your feet while you're walking." She glanced down. "No way are those shoes worth it." With that, she shoved past Naoto and continued down the corridor, dragging Seta by the arm behind her. He barely had time for an apologetic shrug.

Seta would have known what to say. He wouldn't have lost his temper to begin with. What am I supposed to do, Naoto almost called after him - and quickly clenched her teeth. Ridiculous. There was no reason why she would require help in making amends with Kanji. Assuming she needed to at all.

Carefully uncurling her fingers from their fists, she stepped forward and pushed open the door to the Practice Building.

The clubs that had convened after school were already underway, and the corridor was almost empty. Peering around the corner by the main door, Naoto could see two third year girls talking by the stairs, a second year boy sitting on the floor fiddling with a piece of wire - and one Kanji Tatsumi glaring through the window of the Home Economics room.

She stepped back. No need to make her presence known yet. Not when Kanji had barely spoken to her in days.

Exams, though. Besides, he'd seemed uncomfortable around her since their first meeting. Naoto had originally attributed it to oddness.

(Look-at-us-look-at-us-notnormaltoo)

As far as Naoto was concerned, the non-combat benefits of a Persona had yet to make themselves known. If Sukuna-Hikona had proven unhelpful inside the television, outside he was nothing but an irritant - particularly when he was right.

She glanced at Kanji again. He was leaning forward, shoulders hunched, with his hands shoved in his pockets.

Seta had been wrong. She deserved no credit for making amends with Rise. The situation had resolved itself - and might have done so earlier if not for her clumsy attempts to apologize. Rise had cut off the fourth effort after the first choked-out half-sentence with a quicksilver smile and an immediate segue into gossiping about Seta. Naoto hadn't pushed the issue. Endangering the sudden ceasefire had seemed unwise when all her other attempts at reconciliation had somehow ended with Rise storming away down the corridor.

But Kanji was a different matter. No response to her first apology, but no overt antagonism. Naoto, accustomed to the definite, couldn't determine whether a problem existed, much less the best action to correct it.

I don't know the rules.

Kanji's gaze was still firmly on the window. He hadn't noticed her. She could leave. But the responsible thing to do - the adult thing to do - would be to repair matters. Any animosity between them could jeopardize both the team's safety and the outcome of the entire case. The thought had left Naoto in a quiet, low-level state of dread for the past few days, for multiple reasons.

She took a deep breath, then stepped forward. "Good afternoon, Kanji-kun."

Kanji swung round, wide-eyed. It took several seconds for his expression to settle and his fists to uncurl. "Uh. Naoto. S'up."

Lacking any frame of reference, Naoto had mimicked Rise in calling him Kanji-kun. Naoto-kun, implying one thing she hated and another she still half-wished for, had never felt correct - yet applying the diminutive to Kanji seemed natural. But she'd never actually asked, and it occurred to her now that perhaps she'd overstepped the mark. Perhaps that had contributed to the problem. If there was one.

"Nothing is up. I simply--" She hesitated, swallowing. "I was wondering, Tatsumi. Is everything all right?"

Kanji frowned.

This was not going well.

She switched tacks. He had been observing the Home Economics classroom. Therefore, something inside intrigued him. Naoto was barely tall enough to see through the window, but she'd memorized the school schedule. "Are you interested in sewing cl--"

"No!" Kanji snapped. "That's--I-I'm not hurtin' nobody, okay?"

Double negative, she almost replied. She bit her lip instead, one hand gripping the brim of her cap.

The conversation had been a mistake. Attempting to build a rapport had been an even greater one. Naoto had learned at an early age that brilliance was far more useful than companionship, and reached the only logical conclusion: that she had no need for anyone. Extrapolate from there, and joining the team had clearly been her biggest mistake of all.

Glancing up at Kanji, she realized that conviction and desperation were often difficult to distinguish.

He'd turned back to the window, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "L-look, there somethin' up or, or what?"

The same question she'd asked originally. She was the one who had caused offence. Kanji was the one who was supposed to be upset. Naoto stared at him, mind casting around for an appropriate response.

Tomorrow was the final day of exams.

She clasped her hands behind her back. "Your mathematics and world history exams are tomorrow. Do you intend to study more?"

He frowned again. "Uh… I-I guess so. Like it'll help," Naoto heard him add under his breath.

"I. I am free this afternoon."

Kanji stared at her. The silence was tangible.

"The exams," Naoto tried. "I could help you to study."

"Uh. Right. Study." Kanji's tone was utterly flat, his cheeks flushed. Clearly he'd remembered their previous attempt. She turned away, feeling wary, guilty and indignant all at once, and decided that this had been far easier in the abstract. Most things were.

A sharp, discomfiting heat prickled over her cheeks. "I-I understand my last attempt at tutoring was--but I'm--" Trying to fix things, she almost finished, instead clenching her jaw and taking another deep breath. "I'm sorry. I spoke without thinking. I've never considered you stupid."

"B-but you already--you said sorry for that before," Kanji said, shrugging aggressively. "S'alright, y'know?"

Naoto, briefly astonished by a rush of irrational relief, nodded mutely. For a moment, she considered asking why he hadn't formally accepted her apology, but the urge was quickly suppressed. There was obviously some cue she'd missed.

"Yes. It is," she managed. "So. Studying."

"Uh...yeah. I-I don't think it'll help."

Sukuna-Hikona's buzzing sounded almost comforting. Naoto swallowed again. "Of course. I understand. I apologize for bothering you, Tatsumi."

"No, no!" Kanji's hand came dangerously close to grabbing her shoulder, but he jerked back before she had chance to protest. "Y-you--I, I mean--s'worth a try, right?"

With Kanji, everything appeared to be a question. "Yes. We can start now. According to today's schedule, classroom 1-1 isn't in use."

"Yeah. S-sounds good." He gave a brief, slightly awkward smile.

Kanji was awkward all round, really.

She pushed her questions aside. Priorities. "I'll be more thorough in my explanations this time," she promised.

"Great. Awesome." He paused, head turned away. "And, and it--Kanji-kun, yeah? N-not Tatsumi."

With a tug at her coat collar - her neck felt unusually warm - Naoto nodded, and said nothing.