A/N: Longer between chapters than I had hoped. I wish I could say it was all due to Mass Effect 3.
Story so far: Naoto spent the night in the Tatsumis' spare room, in over-sized bunny pyjamas; a situation Kanji took remarkably well.
In this part: Naoto tries to bridge the gaps, Chie's collecting bottlecaps - and Kanji, provoked, finally snaps.
(...I also wish that awful rhyme had been fully intentional)
November 20th, 2011
Looking back, Kanji was amazed he hadn't hyperventilated - or worse, bled all over the spare room. Sheer exhaustion must've taken the edge off his nervousness. That damn nightmare, too; in retrospect, trying to support Naoto had been as much for his benefit as hers. He'd been a mess straight afterwards, trying and failing to convince himself that the Souji in his dream had everything wrong, until all he'd wanted was to be around someone else, just as a distraction.
The feeling hadn't fully passed. Good thing Rise was on hand.
"I can't eat all this!" She glared first at her bowl of rice and beef, then at Otsuka standing at the opposite end of Aiya's counter. "Otsuka-san's trying to make me fat."
Otsuka waved her off with a snort. "Rainy days always mean more food - and besides, you were skin and bones in that soda advert! Do you good to fill out a little."
"My manager's not gonna see it that way!" Rise paused and looked down at her bowl again. "I mean, he wouldn't have, before. I'm giving half of this to you, Kanji-kun."
"Sure," Kanji mumbled. Rise deserved his attention - going by what she'd said on the way back from the hospital, she must've had a rough night too - but his mind kept drifting elsewhere. Or more precisely, somewhere around six o'clock that morning.
Shit, why had he suggested Featherman? Way to be a five-year-old, Tatsumi. Naoto probably thought he was a idiot. And what had he been thinking, barging in on her? Lying in bed, listening to something that sounded far too much like sobbing, the decision had felt wrenchingly obvious. Eight hours and a mid-morning nap later, it seemed insane. Hell, she'd told him to get lost soon as he walked in the room.
…But she'd seemed calmer afterwards. The raw images from his own nightmare had faded too. He liked to think it'd helped them both.
Something hard hit his elbow. "C'mon, Kanji-kun, are you gonna take some of this or not?"
He glanced down at the bowl Rise was shoving against his arm. "Quit griping," he said, plucking out a beef strip with his chopsticks. "Why's it matter how much you eat if you're not goin' back?"
She shrugged and pulled the bowl back toward her. "Maybe I should keep my options open. You know, now that everything's over. Souji-senpai said he'd- -" The sentence stopped, and she fidgeted against the counter stool. "I-I guess it doesn't matter really. But this is still way too much food."
Idols weren't Kanji's thing. He hadn't even heard of Risette before June. On discovering this, Yosuke - a proud Risetteer - had accused him of living under a rock then given him a flash drive full of MP3s. Kanji had made it through five tracks before giving up. But he had to give Rise some credit; not only did she get fan letters months after quitting, she still practically had her own section in the Junes entertainment department. Whatever she'd been doing, whatever she'd created in Risette, people loved it.
"When y'got back to Inaba," he mumbled between mouthfuls. "I know you had a bunch going on…but did you really wanna quit?"
"Totally. None of it felt right anymore."
"And now you're thinking about doing it all over?" He twirled a thick wad of noodles around his chopsticks. "I don't get it."
"Sometimes things happen that don't make sense," she said, leaning over and dropping another strip of beef in his bowl. "Like Naoto-kun throwing stuff at your window last night."
The noodle-clump wedged itself in his throat.
"And then, both of you wandering off together in the pouring rain!" Rise waggled her eyebrows. "Where'd you go?"
Kanji spluttered unhappily, finally managed to swallow, then snapped, "You were s'posed to be sleeping!"
"I couldn't at first. I didn't fall asleep until after I saw you guys leave." With a quiet sigh, Rise leant forward and rested her chin on her hand. "Honestly, I figured Naoto-kun had finally snapped. Who goes out after midnight to break windows?"
"She wasn't trying to - dammit, don't go spying on us!"
Rise grinned at him. "Us?"
Heat rushed to his cheeks. Kanji tried to hide it by growling and viciously attacking his noodles.
She was still staring at him, though. He could feel the smirk, and when she finally spoke again it was almost a relief. "So…did the dashing Detective Prince lure innocent Kan-chan back to her apartment?"
"No, she stayed at -" Kanji stopped and scowled. "Somewhere else, and if you don't wipe that look off your face I am gonna dump this bowl on your damn head."
Either Rise didn't believe him or she didn't care. Her grin grew even more smug, and he might've followed through with his threat - Otsuka-san would forgive him, the floor needed cleaning anyway - if not for the figure who walked up beside them.
Yukiko dipped her head, first at him, then at Rise. "Hello, Kanji-kun, Rise-chan."
It took Kanji a moment to answer, mostly because he'd expected Rise to get there first. "Hey, Yukiko-senpai. You, uh, ain't here to eat, are you?" He hoped not, given she was in her inn getup. Meat bowls and kimonos were a terrible combination.
The smile she gave him didn't quite look like one. "No, of course not! Just running errands. Your mother said you were here, so I wanted to-" She hesitated, gaze switching to a nondescript spot on the counter. "It's just - did Souji contact you today?"
"Yeah. Texted 'bout two hours ago."
"Oh. What did he say?"
"Asked if I wanted to visit Nanako-chan tomorrow." In keeping with Senpai's usual texting style, the whole message had been five words long. Only telegrams charge by the letter, Yosuke had once complained - but right now, Kanji couldn't fault Souji his brevity.
"…That's good."
He'd never been good at conversation, particularly ones that felt wrong from the start. The silence that followed was deeply uncomfortable. Kanji glanced at Rise, hoping she'd break it, but she was staring at the shelves of bowls and bottles behind the counter.
"I'd better get back to the inn," Yukiko finally said, turning toward the door. She made it two steps before she paused and glanced back at him. "Um, Kanji-kun - could you please let me or Chie know how Nanako-chan's doing?"
"Yeah, sure. Bye, Senpai."
Even after Yukiko had pulled her umbrella from the stand and walked out into the rain, Rise still stayed quiet. Just kept poking at her food, pushing it around the bowl without ever raising her chopsticks.
Kanji frowned at her. "Y'didn't say anything."
Her smile looked even worse than Yukiko's. "I don't talk all the time! Just most of it." She tipped her bowl toward him. "You want more of this?"
He shook his head. Didn't have the appetite to finish his own meal. "Thought you got along with Yukiko-senpai, s'all."
Rise shrugged her shoulders. It looked practiced, and totally unconvincing. Sometimes, she was a lousy actress - or maybe Kanji just knew better. The senpai had still seemed a little wary of him weeks after he'd joined the team; Rise had won them over with one smile. She'd started using Himiko to talk inside their heads on only her second TV trip, and nobody had objected since - or ever bothered to ask exactly how much she could hear.
"This 'bout what happened in that fight?" he asked.
Rise glanced at him, her brow slightly knitted, then stared down at the counter. "People aren't always what they seem, Kanji-kun, not inside," she said, in a much lower voice. "I know that better than most. So should you."
November 21st, 2011
Much as he'd wanted to call or text Naoto on Sunday - just to see how she was doing, of course - working up enough guts had proved impossible. Monday, Kanji decided, would be different. Provided he could find her.
The fog had rolled in overnight, thick and grey, and hadn't cleared up by noon. Naoto wouldn't spend the lunch-break outside in that, but she wasn't in her classroom either. When she'd pulled a vanishing act in the week after the festival, he'd searched the whole damn school twice over; this time, he figured he'd play it smart and ask people if they'd seen her instead. It wasn't as easy as it sounded. The first two kids he asked scurried away soon as he approached them, while the third stammered at him for a full five seconds before saying no, he hadn't seen Shirogane today. The fourth was Ayane Matsunaga, who was at least willing to talk to Kanji. Kind of.
"I-I did see Shirogane-kun," she informed the floor - but since she hadn't quite looked Kanji in the eye since the shower incident, he cut her some slack. "She was going up the third floor stairs. T-To the rooftop."
Kanji's first thought was, why would anyone want to sit out in the fog? But this was Naoto, who marched across town in rainstorms and claimed gale force winds helped her think. Hell, maybe fog cheered her up. "Got it. Thanks, Matsunaga," he said. Ayane's cheeks flared beet-red and she seemed more fascinated by the floor than ever, so he took that as his cue to head up to the roof.
When he opened the door at the top of stairs, the air immediately seemed thicker, like the fog was drifting into the stairwell. Glancing around, he could only spot two hazy figures in the grey. The first was that weird third year girl fiddling with her makeshift weather station; the second, slightly further away, was Naoto. She was staring intently through the fence at what, to Kanji, looked like empty space.
He walked nearer, making sure to tread a little harder in case she hadn't heard the stairwell door. "Yo, Naoto."
"Kanji-kun." Naoto didn't turn her head, but even in profile he could see the mix of confusion and caution in her expression.
Shit, had he done something wrong? Was she pissed off over what'd happened at his house? Had she thought about it even half as much as he had? A dozen questions burning in his mind, Kanji's mouth tried to ask all of them at once. "You - uh, you're okay now, right? S-sorry I barged in, wasn't thinkin', are you - but you were dreamin', I-"
Naoto frowned at him. He couldn't tell whether she was frustrated or just trying to translate whatever he'd said. "Your behavior provided no cause for alarm," she told him, quick and clipped. "I chose to visit you, and- -" She shook her head, attention focused back on the fence, or the murky grey beyond it. "This fog. Has it happened before?"
"How d'you mean? S'always foggy after we bring someone back."
"The fog after my kidnapping vanished scarcely an hour after dawn. This seems different. And that bothers me, particularly if it is breaking a consistent trend."
Kanji's memories of the fog were dominated by the deep relief he'd felt when the skies had finally cleared. It seemed like that'd always happened early in the morning…but it was hard to be certain. "Dunno. Sorry. Don't think it was as bad as this, though."
Naoto pressed her closed fist against her lips, apparently lost in thought. At least she didn't look disappointed. But, now that he thought about it, wasn't there something weird about this fog?
"It would be helpful if I hadn't joined your cause so late," she said. Her gaze snapped back toward him. "What was your Shadow like?"
Kanji froze, mid-aneurysm.
Shit, where had that come from? Nobody liked talking about their Shadows. Yosuke liked talking about Kanji's, because Yosuke was frequently a grade-A asshole, but even he restricted himself to lewd hints and he almost never mentioned his own. You didn't have to discuss your Shadow, and you didn't put others on the spot about theirs. Unspoken rule of the team - which Naoto apparently hadn't picked up on.
In the one fragment of his mind that wasn't spinning in wild panic, Kanji decided this wasn't surprising.
"Kanji-kun? I asked-"
"I-I-wh-why the hell're you askin' something like that?"
"I - the thought struck me, last night, that I have not witnessed anyone else's Shadow save Namatame's." Naoto had started talking faster, in an apparent attempt to either get everything out before Kanji could interrupt or just fluster him into submission. "Yukiko-senpai provided a brief description of hers, but given that my own was observed by you all I believe it would be fairer if- -"
"M-mine was nothin' special! Nothin' at all!" he blurted, with a wild swipe toward the fence. The eyebrow Naoto quirked at him in response somehow made everything even worse. "An' if Hanamura tells you any diff'rent, he's lying, got it?"
There was a long, dangerous pause before she spoke again.
"Of course…he would have been present during your confrontation. As would the other senpai." Her expression had shifted into something terrifyingly curious. "And Teddie."
Holy crap. She wouldn't.
Except she would, because she wouldn't ever be able to stand not knowing something, especially if there was an obvious route to find out. The interrogation over the dolls had proved that. And if she went and asked Yosuke or Ted…
"Y-You just got done with one investigation, dammit, don't start another!" Kanji half-snapped, half-begged. "It ain't important!"
No way would she agree. Even as he spoke, he knew he'd have to take preemptive action. Busy debating whether he could actually bring himself to throw Teddie through a wall (Yosuke was no question), Kanji almost missed the sudden flash of…something across Naoto's face. It looked like guilt - or maybe disappointment.
"I'm sorry. I-I suppose - facing my Shadow was - -" She hesitated, shoulders tensing, and tipped down the brim of her cap. "Your reticence is wholly explicable."
…Dammit.
Crushing on someone for half a year made arguing with them really damn difficult, particularly when just looking at them too long made you go gooey and giddy and a bunch of other seriously unmanly adjectives. Kanji felt like he'd kicked a kitten. If she'd heard him think that, Naoto probably would've kicked him for real - but instead she was staring at the fence again, one hand still fussing with her cap.
He grimaced, scratching his chin. Yukiko had fessed up, meaning he'd be a total wuss for not doing the same - and if he lied, he'd be even worse. Besides, Naoto had a point. Only the senpai had seen the emotional wreckage cluttering up Kanji's head; hers had been broadcast to the whole team, and maybe all the extra people who'd started watching the Midnight Channel too. But how did you explain a guy prancing around a bathhouse in a fundoshi without it sounding like the obvious? Six months on, and no matter how hard he'd been trying to accept his doubts, Kanji still had trouble explaining it to himself.
"Mine…h-had problems with girls," he mumbled, trying not to cringe. "Lots of 'em."
Naoto blinked up at him. "…Problems?"
"B-But it ain't what it seems! I-I mean - I - dammit!" His hand had automatically moved to the back of his neck. Maybe he should just throttle himself now and be done with it - no, wouldn't work, Naoto was still staring at him. Kanji let out a sigh. "Okay, m-maybe some of it was - but I think it was about more than just that, y'know? Liking sewing and cooking and all that kinda crap…h-how I figured nobody would ever accept me because of it. Maybe how I couldn't accept myself, I dunno."
Naoto didn't say anything at first. Just kept looking at him. Finally - and a split-second before he launched into another stumbling justification - she gave a brief nod. "Hence hiding the dolls."
"Yeah."
"You must have made progress. I noticed the display in your mother's shop."
"Souji-senpai's idea," Kanji shot back, instantly regretting it. Naoto had almost sounded impressed.
"Of course," she said, quick and smooth. "I intend to question Rise on her confrontation too."
One conversation Kanji planned to skip. He'd accidentally let the strip club part slip to Naoto back in the Secret Base, but that'd probably been the least disturbing thing about Rise's Shadow. "Ask her at the hospital this afternoon and she'll get too freaked out to feel sad."
Naoto's frown looked almost wary. "The hospital?"
He nodded. "Gonna go see Nanako-chan. Souji-senpai texted me 'bout it yesterday, Rise's comin' along."
"…At Souji-senpai's suggestion?"
Weird question; as if Kanji would ever gatecrash. "Yeah," he said - and realization hit. "Oh. Didn't ask you, did he."
"No," Naoto said, averting her eyes.
"Damn. Sorry."
"I doubt he asked Chie-senpai or Yukiko-senpai either." Naoto's voice had gone quiet, and she turned to stare at the fence again. "I - had intended to consult with him about this fog, but…" Trailing off, she folded her arms tightly against her chest.
Kanji knew Senpai didn't really mean any of it, and that he'd get over this with the team's help. Didn't stop Kanji from wanting to shake him by the shoulders - but thoughts like that didn't help anyone. Instead, Kanji followed the trend he'd set for the past six months and focused squarely on Naoto. "Hey…you, uh, have lunch yet? I-I brought too much." It was a lie, but anyone her size would barely make a dent in his ramen and beef. "Could eat up here, Souji-senpai likes t'do that with-" He stopped, catching himself. "Well, s'a good place to sit."
That was a lie too, at least right now. Eating lunch in the fog would usually be outright depressing. But looking down at Naoto - sharp grey-blue eyes, one hand now on her hip, with that little pull in her shoulder-blades that made her seem ever-so-slightly taller - it sounded like one of Kanji's best ideas ever.
She tipped her head a little. "...I have no objections."
Practically a ringing endorsement, given the source. Kanji couldn't help grinning. "I'll go grab my bento."
By the end of school, the fog still hadn't cleared. This kind of weather had turned Kanji's stomach since April - partly because of what had happened to Yamano and Saki, and partly because of what could've happened if they hadn't pulled everyone out in time. And then there was October, when the fog had rolled in, he'd looked up at the telephone wires above the district, and Naoto had been- -
Except that hadn't happened. Must've dreamt that part. Kanji shook his head; he was tired from the fight in the castle, that was all. Still felt like he'd been thrown down a flight of stairs, probably because he had been.
Something else was off, though. This fog felt different, almost like he'd choke on it if he breathed in too deep, and the temperature had dropped at least five degrees overnight. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, wishing he'd thought to bring his gloves and trying to ignore the strange bitter taste on his tongue.
If not for Souji and Nanako, he'd have stayed home. Everyone else clearly had, since the bus stop was almost deserted. Just some dude in a business suit, Kanji, and Rise - shivering beside him, wrapped in what looked like three different layers of clothing and trying to tap out a text message while wearing purple mittens. She kept frowning at her phone; the little punctuation faces were probably coming out all wrong. "I bet Souji-senpai's already at the hospital," she said. "I've gotta let him know we're stuck here. I know the buses run late sometimes, but this is nuts!"
No wonder. In this weather, the bus driver wouldn't be able to see more than ten meters ahead. "Relax. Senpai ain't going anywhere."
"I just don't want him to be there alone." Rise's thumb had stopped jabbing at her phone. "He didn't come to school today. I checked."
Even after their toughest runs inside the TV, Souji-senpai always showed up for class. He'd spent months drilling it into Kanji to do the same. "Maybe he went to the hospital early, see his uncle as well as Nanako-chan."
She shook her head. "I dunno, Kanji-kun. He's been- -"
The sentence stopped short. Kanji waited a few seconds for her to finish it before realizing she was watching the guy in the suit, who was standing a few meters away. He'd struck Kanji as a little odd - kept mumbling to himself and glancing around the fog - but the way Rise was staring at him was all wrong. Like she was seeing something else completely. When Kanji nudged her in the side, she almost jumped.
"You alright?" he asked.
Still shivering, Rise kept her gaze on the businessman. "Something isn't right." With a sharp shake of her head, she looked back at Kanji, and chuckled. "I think I'm hearing things. Crazy, huh?"
Kanji paused. Nothing about that statement was good, and everything about the way Rise had said it sounded horribly desperate.
…She was just stressed out. Probably been sleeping as badly as the rest of the team. "Only crazy thing is you worrying so much," he said, and pointed to the phone still in her hand. "An' if you don't finish that text, we'll be at the hospital before y'even send it."
Rise blinked down at her cell, as if realizing she was still holding it, then offered Kanji a lightning smile. "Yeah, you're right. Can't leave Souji-senpai hanging, can I?"
The night she'd arrived at the hospital, the doctors hadn't let anyone but Souji and his uncle in to Nanako's room. After seeing her today, Kanji was grateful - because if he'd gone in back then, Naoto might've been the one yelling at him to get his shit together.
He leaned forward in the hard plastic chair, elbows resting on his knees, and wiped his hand over his face. He wasn't crying - blubbing in a hospital corridor wouldn't help Nanako, or do anything except make him look like an idiot - but dammit if he wasn't close. She'd just been lying there, in a bed that looked ten sizes too big, and everything had been too white: walls, sheets, doctors' coats, all the same. Nanako had somehow looked even paler.
Kanji had done all of this five years ago. Shouldn't it be easier a second time round?
Old memories stirred in the back of his head, his mind plucking out choice moments: when Konishi-san had found him playing by the river with Naoki and told him his dad had taken ill; when they'd arrived at the hospital and spent fifteen minutes just trying to find the right damn room; and when the doctor had come out and told them it didn't matter anyway, not anymore.
He'd lost his old man without the chance to do or say a damn thing. Maybe it'd been the same way for Naoto. Kanji hadn't brought the topic up. You didn't ask a question like that, especially when you wouldn't ever want to answer.
Take-Mikazuchi was rumbling wordlessly, the general gist being that his human self should man up and that the present had nothing to do with the past. The fact that the Persona was intervening at all wasn't a good sign, given he usually made so little noise. Kanji sat in silence, trying hard to convince himself the big lunk was right, until Souji walked out of Nanako's room.
He closed the door behind him and sat down next to Kanji. "I didn't say this earlier, but thanks for coming."
"Don't have to thank me, Senpai. Where's Hanamura?"
"Rescheduled stock-check at Junes. He said he'd drop by the house with Teddie later."
Kanji's eyebrows arched. "Why's he working? His arm's still messed up."
"Try telling him that," Souji said. It should've sounded irritated. It didn't sound like much of anything.
"What 'bout the girls?"
Souji leaned back in his chair - far too stiff to be casual - and settled his gaze on the opposite wall. "You came here with Rise."
Kanji winced.
However difficult seeing Nanako had been for him, it would've been a dozen times harder on her cousin - but how much did that really have to do with the way he was treating half the team? People aren't always what they seem, Rise had said. Souji seemed to believe it.
"Naoto said somethin' earlier, and - I-I don't get it, Senpai." Kanji shifted against his chair, suddenly nervous - but why would he ever feel that way around Souji? "You're okay with Ted, and he- -"
"Ted's got the mind of a four year old. He had no idea what he was doing."
The edge in his tone turned Kanji's stomach. Souji had gotten exasperated at some of the team before, even angry, but he'd never sounded disdainful. "The others didn't either."
"I wouldn't know. Rise still won't tell me what she heard from them back in the fight." Souji's mouth curled into a painful, ironic half-smile. "Pretty revealing in itself."
Rise, far as Kanji knew, wasn't telling anyone the full story. And if she wouldn't even spill it to Senpai…
He shook his head. "Magic screws people up. It's made all of us do weird shit before."
For a moment, Souji didn't respond. He stared back at the wall again, jaw tightening.
"Not like that," he eventually said. It wasn't much more than a whisper. "I saw the look in their eyes, Kanji. You did too. How can you trust someone after that?"
Kanji had seen them, alright. They'd looked terrified. Chie, Teddie, Yukiko, Naoto, all with exactly the same frozen look of horror. But he'd just been an obstruction, not the one they'd so single-mindedly tried to harm. Had Souji seen something different?
…Shit, this was stupid. Unable to sit still any longer, Kanji stood up, stomped over to the window, and smacked his palms against the sill. "What, you gonna just avoid 'em? You're better than that, Senpai!"
"Doesn't matter. Everything's over." Souji's steel-grey gaze was numb, and unnerving. "I don't need to try with them anymore. There's nothing to gain."
For a moment, Kanji could do nothing but blink at him. "…What?"
Souji rose from his seat in place of an answer. "I'm going to get some water. Want a cup?"
Dumbly, Kanji shook his head.
"Fair enough." Souji turned and walked away, hands shoved in his trouser pockets. Watching him turn down a right-hand corridor, Kanji wondered if he should've said something else, or if there had been a right response to begin with.
Nothing to gain from what?
"Good afternoon, Kanji-kun."
He whirled around to see Naoto a few meters behind him, standing at the junction with the corridor that led to the elevators. It suddenly seemed like a good thing Souji had left.
"Uh…s'up," Kanji said, nodding to her. "Senpai asked you to come after all?"
He'd needed to ask, just to make certain - and he wanted to have been wrong - but Naoto's answer didn't surprise him at all. "No." She stepped closer, one hand gripping the opposite arm. "I was not invited to attend."
"Yeah. He's uh, you know."
Her grip tightened, fingers pressed firmly against the sleeve of her school jacket. "But still, I-I thought perhaps-"
"Naoto-kun."
Glancing over his shoulder, Kanji saw Souji standing rigid at the opposite end of the corridor, a plastic cup in each hand - and his stomach sank.
Naoto straightened and clasped her hands behind her back, equally stiff. "Senpai. I came to see Nanako-chan."
"She's worn out." Souji had walked closer, but not by much. A gap of at least three meters stretched between him and Naoto, with Kanji caught in the middle.
Staying quiet would've been smartest. But when had Kanji ever let that bother him? "Rise's still in there, Senpai," he said, voice as steady and calm as he could make it. "No harm if Naoto goes in too."
The look Souji gave him was one Kanji didn't recognize: distant yet troubled at the same time. It lasted scarcely a moment before Souji glanced at Naoto instead. "You could come back another day," he said, and turned away without waiting for a response.
As she watched Souji open the door to Nanako's room and walk inside, Kanji watched her in turn, trying to decode her expression - or lack of one.
"I suppose that was the best I could hope for," she said quietly.
"Senpai's not himself right now." Rise had walked out of the room straight after Souji entered. She stayed by the door, both arms wrapped around her middle.
Naoto looked back at her, still with that same lack of emotion. "Neither are you, it seems."
"Naoto-kun - remember how I-I said I could hear all of you during the fight?" Rise edged closer to Kanji; hearing the shake in her voice, he wasn't surprised to see her eyes were red. "I never realized- -"
She didn't need to finish the rest. Naoto raised one hand as if to tug down the brim of her cap - then stopped, lowered it again, and gave a melancholy nod.
"And you know the worst thing? All of us probably have that inside," Rise said, hugging herself tighter. "Fighting our Shadows didn't- -it was supposed to fix us."
But none of them had needed fixing; they'd never been broken to begin with. Thinking that he was had caused half of Kanji's problems - and, going by their Shadows, Rise's and Naoto's too. He shook his head with a grunt. "Thass stupid."
Rise stared up at him, eyes wide. "What are- -"
"Our Shadows, they all came from whatever was eating away at us most. Accepting them was just the first step to dealin' with that." The first step in a very long walk that - in his experience - might just leave you going round in circles, but you had to start somewhere. "It didn't get rid of the rest of the crap inside us, and it was never meant to."
"Kanji-kun is correct. We're all still human," agreed Naoto. "Souji-senpai included."
Rise glanced between Naoto and Kanji, lips parted as if she wanted to say something, until she forced them into a smile instead. "Yeah. Sorry," she said, not nearly lightly enough. "He'll come round. We just need to look after him." She glanced back at the door. "I'm - gonna go check he's okay. Later, guys."
It wasn't until Rise had gone back in the room and closed the door again that Naoto finally looked up at Kanji. "You can be remarkably clear-headed at times."
Great. She thought he was a moron. She'd even said as much back when she'd tried to help him study - though she'd insisted later she hadn't meant it, something Kanji reminded himself of while attempting not to scowl. "M'always like this," he muttered. "Usually just comes out wrong."
Or not at all, he might've added.
Naoto's expression turned thoughtful - then, for the briefest moment, vaguely uncomfortable. It leveled out in an instant, and her gaze shifted to the window and the fog outside. "Things often do."
November 24th, 2011
The fog still hadn't left. Most people were pairing off when walking home now; far as Kanji could tell, some had stopped coming to school at all. He'd been counting Souji among that group until today, when he'd seen Senpai and Yosuke walking through the school gates moments before the first bell, the latter pushing his beat-up excuse for a bicycle and the former still dusting gravel off his jacket.
It took a death wish to want to ride anywhere with Yosuke Hanamura, but if anyone could get through to Souji, it was him. Staring through the window of classroom 1-3, Kanji tried to spot the two of them in the yard - school had ended only a few minutes ago, and that orange two-wheeled eyesore ought to stand out anywhere - but the fog was too dense. He hoped Senpai hadn't gone to the hospital alone. Kanji had offered, of course, but Souji had told him to take a break today and go relax somewhere.
Figured, really. Souji was the only person who knew just how much Kanji hated hospitals, the old debris they kicked up inside his head. It just didn't feel right knowing Senpai was looking out for him while blanking half the damn team.
He sighed and turned away from the window. By now the classroom was almost empty. Few more minutes and sewing club would get underway; maybe standing outside and watching would count as 'relaxing'. Kanji strode out the door, planning to head to the activities building, but stopped when he noticed Naoto standing in the corridor outside the staffroom.
How come she hadn't gone home? Or to the hospital? Souji had been a little kinder yesterday; barely said ten words to her the whole time she was there, but he'd let her in to see Nanako. Naoto's infinite stubbornness had at least gotten her further than Yukiko and Chie, who hadn't shown up at the hospital at all.
Made it even stranger she was still here, though. Kanji ambled down the corridor and stopped next to her, or as close as he dared to get. "Hey, Naoto."
She'd been staring intently at the staffroom door, and blinked up at him in surprise. "Kanji-kun. You haven't left?"
"Sewing club's meeting today."
"Are you going to attend, or watch from outside?"
The question carried no malice; Naoto's bluntness just made the whole thing sound about as stupid as it really was. Kanji tried not to cringe. "Second one," he mumbled.
Naoto considered this. "Though I acknowledge the irony of the suggestion, perhaps you should contemplate joining in."
He had, several times. Hell, the club could probably use his help - some of the stitchwork he'd seen had looked awful from three meters away - but he'd only spook the other kids. "Yeah. Just…y'know."
"Very well."
Since she didn't push the topic, Kanji gladly changed it. "So, why're you hanging 'round in the corridor?"
Naoto shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "One of the teaching faculty wishes to speak with me," she said, looking a little…sheepish?
Much as it didn't fit her, Kanji knew that look. He grimaced in sympathy. "Sucks. What'd you do?"
Frowning up at him, she paused - then let out a quiet sigh. "I fell asleep during mathematics class," she admitted. "And Nakayama-sensei is not having one of her better days."
"You tired?" Kanji's brow furrowed. "You ain't had more bad -"
"No - well, yes, but only one. I've simply been working late at the police station this week."
"Huh. Thought they got rid of you?"
…Whoa, that'd come out wrong. Thankfully, Naoto only managed a halfhearted glare - maybe because, in the end, he was right. "Dojima-san…has insisted that his colleagues make full use of my abilities during his absence."
The cops had treated her like a kid all through the summer, even blocked her from the case when she'd kept insisting Kubo had only one murder to his name. The chance to make them suck it up sounded awesome. "'Bout time. Dumbasses should've listened to you earlier."
Folding her arms, she turned to the side. "Dojima-san now believes I can assist in building a strong case against Namatame."
Two victims dead, five who'd come close. Sure, the cops hadn't known about him and Yukiko and the rest, but Naoto did. It was Naoto who Souji's uncle trusted to make sure Namatame got sent down, maybe even above the other cops - and though Kanji had absolutely nothing to do with that, he still felt a small swell of pride.
But looking at her now - arms still crossed, eyes dark under her cap - something in her expression didn't match up.
He frowned at her. "And you can, right?"
Naoto looked up at him, hesitating. She'd just opened her mouth to speak when the staffroom door swung open.
Nakayama stood in the doorway: dour, thin-lipped, and resentment incarnate. "Shirogane. Inside."
Judging by the vaguely mortified look on her face - and the fact that she was the top student in their year - getting bitched out by a teacher was a brand new experience for Naoto. Kanji considered clapping a hand on her shoulder, but settled for a firm nod. "She'll just complain at you a bunch," he whispered, with the confidence of a frequent target of Nakayama's husband-induced wrath. "Trust me, I been there. And at least it ain't Kashiwagi."
Naoto sighed, tugged at her cap again, and walked into the staffroom.
In retrospect, Kanji probably should've gone to the hospital. Somehow, sitting in the corridor outside Nanako's room felt like he was doing something useful. Being there for Souji, maybe. Instead, too distracted to help in the shop - Ma had caught him dusting the display tables times over - he'd spent the early evening sitting in his room, making an inattentive attempt at sewing a hippo ballerina and doing a lot of thinking. The latter was rarely a good thing.
He'd always gotten way too hung up on stuff. Naoto was proof of that. So was him spending months wrangling with his 'doubts' - and, right now, twisting himself into knots about something he should've gotten over years ago. What was happening to Nanako was nothing like what had happened to his dad, and he had no right to be so cut up over her to start with. Even knowing that, Kanji still couldn't shake the belief that he needed to be at the hospital right now, and every other day, just in case.
…No, that was plain dumb. Nanako was gonna be fine. She was a resilient kid; had to be, to lose a parent and come out of it so well. Far better than Kanji. He'd just gotten angrier and more and more scrunched up inside, unable to deal with his dad being gone and shoving everyone away instead. The piercings, the tattoo, and the clothes had all been part of that. Anything he'd thought might scare people off. It wasn't like he'd started out with many friends to spare; most of the girls at school had done nothing but laugh, and the only guy who'd never been weirded out by him was Naoki.
But even during the worst stuff he'd put her through, Ma had always told Kanji he'd been a happy kid, and that she knew he'd find his way back someday. He'd fobbed her off at the time, called her stuff he shouldn't - but in the end, and though Kanji had needed Souji Seta's help to do it, she'd been absolutely right. Still felt weird hanging out with people again, especially when those people actually gave a damn what he felt and thought, but it was a good sort of weird.
Souji made finding friends seem as easy as breathing. Still didn't explain why he'd throw away the ones he had.
Kanji's phone started blaring; some bubblegum pop ringtone he'd let Rise put on there while they'd been riding the bus and he'd run out of other ways to cheer her up. Pulling the phone from his pocket, he saw Yosuke's name on the screen for the second time in recent memory. The first had been when Dojima had hauled Souji off to the cop shop.
As he picked up the phone, Kanji held his breath. "…S'up?"
"Hey, Yosuke here."
"I know that, dumbass, the phone shows your name on the screen. Your arm better yet?
"Mostly. Kind of hurts, but I got sick of that stupid sling. Listen, I've gotta help Teddie with his evening shift at Junes. Are you free now?"
He already knew where this was headed. Souji and Chie had spent a whole week slaving at Junes in the midsummer; Kanji had only gotten out of it because he'd needed to help Ma instead. Better the textile shop customers than the crowd at the food court, he'd decided, and his opinion hadn't changed. "I ain't covering for you at work, man."
"No, moron. I was supposed to head to Souji's place after we left the hospital." Yosuke hesitated. "I don't like leaving him by himself, but I had to come back to help Ted and Rise's being weird about going and the other girls…"
"Yeah. I know. You go there every day?"
"Yep. Don't get me wrong, he doesn't need it, Souji can handle anything, but - " Yosuke stopped, then said, too casually, "He's being kinda weird lately. And it's not like I've got anything better to do."
"Senpai's a tough guy."
"Pretty big compliment, coming from you! You can tell him tonight if you head over there."
Figured. Yosuke really did want Kanji to cover for him - just not at Junes. "That what this is about?"
Clearly realizing he'd been rumbled, Yosuke let out a quiet sigh. "He needs company, Kanji. Nagase and Ichijo are handling it tomorrow, but somebody's gotta go tonight. You'll do it, right?"
How did you say no to a question like that without sounding like a total dick? It was impossible. Yosuke probably knew that, the asshole. "Yeah, fine," Kanji muttered. "No worries."
But maybe this was a good thing. It'd give Souji company, Kanji a distraction, and Hanamura some peace of mind. Now that Yosuke had gotten what he wanted, Kanji waited for him to close the conversation - but instead, the other end of the line stayed silent. "…What?"
"Naoto came by last night. Said she wanted to talk to Souji."
"Oh. Right." The flare of jealousy made Kanji feel like an idiot. Okay, so Naoto had told him she'd been working late at the station - but she needed to clear the air with Souji before things got out of hand. "Uh, how'd it go?"
Yosuke's silence was all the answer he needed.
"Damn." While Kanji couldn't imagine half of what Souji was going through, the one thing he knew from experience was that pushing friends away - outright distrusting them - would make everything far worse. The team had always had Souji's back, some of them for months, and Senpai knew that. One stupid, messed-up fight shouldn't have changed his mind.
"Never mind detectives, Shirogane's the crown prince of awkward." Yosuke's chuckle only sounded uncomfortable. "She left pretty quickly. Honestly, I didn't really get what she was saying."
Might have helped if Hanamura hadn't hung around while she'd tried to say it. Even Kanji realized that. But Yosuke's protective streak had gone into overdrive where Souji was concerned - and if you spent long enough around someone, maybe you started to think a little like they did. Maybe you started doubting the same people.
It was an ugly idea.
"I'm not doing anythin' important." Kanji stood up from the table, glancing at the darkening fog outside his window. "I'll head over to Souji-senpai's now."
"Thanks, man. I owe you one. Oh yeah, Souji told me he wanted a favour from you," Yosuke added, sounding confused.
"Whassat?"
"He said it was for Nanako, really. Something to do with Loveline and a custom order?"
"Ain't you gonna be late for work?" Kanji snapped.
Yosuke took the not-so-subtle hint. "Dude, don't bite my head off! I'm going!" he protested, and with one last grumble about not shooting messengers, ended the call.
November 25th, 2011
Kanji frowned at the pile of cardboard boxes. "Y' never normally need help with this."
"Well, I do this time. Don't be difficult!" Folding her arms over her apron, Rise fixed him with a glare that somehow doubled as a pout. "We don't usually have this much expired stock to throw out. There's no way I can lift it all."
There were distinct disadvantages to being the strongest guy in your group of friends. Kanji's frown deepened - probably couldn't intimidate a box into moving itself, but you never knew - then vanished as Rise's grandmother walked out the Marukyu shop door. Kujikawa-san, he'd learned a long time ago, was not a lady to be crossed.
"Rise-chan!" she scolded, tapping her granddaughter on the forearm. "Don't snap at Kan-chan, he's being a good boy."
Rise cringed. "Sorry, Grandma. I'll, um, go see what else we need to bring out," she said, and made a hasty retreat through the shop door.
Kujikawa-san watched her leave; Kanji couldn't quite make out the old woman's expression, but it shifted into a polite smile as soon as she turned to face him. "Thank you for offering to help, Kan-chan."
"No problem, Kujikawa-san." He hadn't exactly offered, but it wasn't like he had much else to do. Besides, Ma and Rise's grandmother were on good terms, and Kanji preferred to avoid any potential rebukes for bailing out on his mother's friends.
"Business is so slow lately…but you can probably tell that from all this waste. The weather's been so strange that even our usual customers are staying home." Kujikawa-san had been staring out into the thick fog as she spoke, but her gaze soon switched back to the shop door. "And Rise-chan…" She looked up at Kanji, the wrinkles in her forehead creasing even deeper with concern. "You'll look after her, won't you, Kan-chan?"
Look after Rise how? He'd already been walking her home from Junes at night, and he was pretty certain Kujikawa-san had no idea her granddaughter had been jumping into televisions to fight weird-ass monsters. And even on the off-chance she did, all of that was over now. Not quite understanding her point, Kanji shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah. No worries."
Kujikawa-san smiled up at him, gave a quick nod, and went back inside the shop.
A cold breeze whipped along the street, much colder than was normal for this time of year - but nothing about this weather was normal. According to the forecast, the temperature would keep dropping and the fog wasn't going to let up. The local news show had even done a report about it this morning: a ten-minute section on 'How to protect yourself from the fog' which had been less reassuring and more scaremongering.
Stupid. Fog was just fog. Kanji had been trying to convince himself of this all week. Take-Mikazuchi should've helped, given he'd been butting in a lot more than usual lately - but on this topic, the Persona had stayed silent.
No point dwelling on it, though. Rise would be back out with more stuff and she'd get ratty if Kanji hadn't started moving the first batch. He'd just bent down to lift the biggest box when someone called out from the street. "Hey, Kanji-kun, is that you?"
Couldn't see who it was, beyond a hazy figure jogging toward him in the fog, but the voice made it clear. "Yo, Chie-senpai! What're you doin' out?"
Chie ran up to the base of the steps, a wide grin on her face. "After-school training!" she explained, hastily adding, "Probably don't need to anymore, but you never know, right?"
"Yeah," Kanji said, without meaning it. Everything was over now: the case, the TV runs, maybe even the team.
Still jogging on the spot - and making a weird rattling noise while she did it - Chie glanced at the pile of boxes. "And now you're getting used as a workhorse, huh? I'll help."
"Uh-"
Arguing was pointless; she was already at the top of the steps. "It'll do me good," she insisted. "Running's just aerobic exercise, not strength. No point kicking if I can't do anyone any damage!" She hesitated barely a moment before breaking into another smile. "To Shadows, I mean."
Kanji wasn't sure what to say, other than that he appreciated her trying so damn hard, even if it didn't quite work and even though she might be the only one still bothering. Right on cue, Rise appeared to bail him out - except that wasn't working either. She stopped in the shop doorway, blinking at Chie, and pulled the cardboard box in her arms close to her chest. "Oh. Chie-senpai. You - don't have to help."
Chie waved her off. "Nah, it'll go quicker this way. Even Iron Tatsumi can't carry all of these at once."
Rise glanced at Kanji, then back at Chie. The look in her eyes caused a cold weight to settle in his stomach. "But- -"
"This fog is poison! It's a gas filled with viruses!"
A guy had bolted through the fog from the northern end of the district, skidding to a halt at the bottom of the shop steps. His limbs were twitching, like he wanted to run in every possible direction at once - and why was he wearing a gasmask? "Hell's your problem?" Kanji snapped.
Gasmask guy didn't answer. He stared wildly around him, orange coat flapping with each jerky motion, palms pressed against the sides of his head. "No, no! You don't understand, if you inhale the fog you'll die!"
"Stop saying that!" Chie hissed. "You're gonna scare people!"
Not that there was anyone else around to hear. Kanji could only see one other figure in the fog - tall, broad, and, now they'd moved closer, red-haired. Daidara, never the most sociable man, was taking advantage of the empty streets.
Unfortunately, gasmask guy spotted him too. He launched into a stumbling run. "You! What're you doing? You don't even have a mask!"
"And I used to think Inaba was kinda dull," Chie sighed, watching Daidara swat the guy away like an insect.
"He's not even the first one. He's just saying it out loud." Rise put down the box in her arms and turned back to the door. "I'm gonna get more boxes."
Chie stared after her as she left. "Is she okay?"
"…Dunno. Can't tell."
"Might be the fog. You hear about Takahashi? Third-year, plays centre-forward for the soccer team?" Kanji, who didn't even know the name, shook his head. "He collapsed yesterday during practice. People are saying it's because of all this," Chie said, waving a hand toward the murky street. "Maybe that gasmask guy was on to something."
"On something, more like. Fog's just fog." Kanji insisted. Chie shrugged at that, crouched down to pick up a box, and rattled again. Jangled, even. He tipped his head. "Why're you rattlin'?"
"Oh. Bottle caps," she said, like it explained everything.
"…Bottle caps?"
"Back at the inn, Nanako-chan said her class was planning a crafts project at school. She needed soda bottle caps." Chie pulled a few brightly-coloured caps out of her pocket as evidence. "Teddie helped me collect these at the food court yesterday evening. I was gonna give them to Souji, I guess."
Kanji gave a tense nod. "Yeah."
An awkward silence fell; the type that was only a few seconds long, yet crammed in a lot of unpleasant things nobody wanted to acknowledge. Fortunately, Chie didn't let it drag out. "Okay!" she said, tapping her fists together for emphasis. "I've got a better idea. I'll help Rise-chan haul everything out here first, then you and me'll move it all into the alley. Alright?"
"Sounds good," Kanji said, and grabbed the two nearest boxes from the pile as Chie headed back inside.
Good thing they'd split off. He wasn't sure he could stand another conversation riddled with difficult pauses in place of everything they didn't want to say about Souji. Kanji wasn't sure who was worse off: Naoto, gatecrashing both Souji's house and the hospital in a clumsy effort to mend bridges, or Chie and Yukiko, one desperately acting like nothing was wrong and the other spending every free hour working at an inn with no visitors.
The latter had called Kanji the other night to ask after Nanako - and, indirectly, her Big Bro. Though the conversation had expertly sidestepped Souji's recent behavior, Yukiko, unlike Chie, had at least been willing to talk about him. It's not like Souji's alone. Yosuke hardly ever leaves his house, she'd said. But I think we should all be helping him, even if he doesn't want us to.
She'd said something else too, right before she'd ended the call. This isn't Souji.
Kanji had known their leader half a year, almost as long as Yukiko and the other senpai, and he'd wanted to agree. The problem was, he couldn't shake the creeping suspicion that he'd never really met Souji at all. But, whoever or whatever Souji Seta really was, he'd still saved all their lives, and wasn't the type of debt you shrugged off. Kanji had reminded himself of this while sitting on the Dojimas' sofa last night, trying to pay attention to some brainless comedy show on TV and ending up watching Souji instead. He'd been polite, had even thanked Kanji for showing up, but otherwise said barely a word.
Still, awkward as it'd been, maybe he should fill in for Yosuke again one evening. Convince Naoto to come along and let her try to talk things out with Souji again. Kanji would at least have the decency to leave the room, much as he'd instinctively dislike it.
He rounded the corner into the alleyway for the second time, ready to dump his next box. He'd just finished stacking it against the wall with the others when he heard footsteps approaching from the main street. Kanji assumed they belonged to Chie - until he realized there were too many of them.
He looked up. Five dim figures stood in the fog at the entrance to the alley. "Nice dolls, Kanji-chan!"
Kanji couldn't fully see them in the fog, but he knew that voice far too well. Sonoda and his gang of idiots. They were probably bored - and, with only two brain cells to rub together between the lot of them, they'd settled on Kanji as their source of entertainment. "Get lost, Sonoda," he muttered.
"Hey, I'm paying you a compliment!" Sonoda swaggered closer, shooting a grin back at his cronies. "You stay up all night sewing them, huh?"
…What?
He'd taken the doll comment as a lame insult, a clumsy way of calling him a girl, not that Sonoda actually knew he- - "Who the hell told you that?"
"Why, is Kanji-chan shy?" Sonoda jeered, his friends laughing behind him. He tipped his head toward one of them, a short and stocky guy standing on the far left of the group. "Arakaki's kid sister keeps goin' on about wanting one. Though we'd drop by your mom's store and check 'em out."
Kanji lurched toward Sonoda, almost toppling the stack of boxes. "Listen, asshole," he snarled, fists already clenched at his sides. "You even look at our shop an' I'll beat the living shit outta you!"
"Try it, Kanji-chan."
"Hey! Leave him alone!"
Shit. Chie must've finished bringing stuff out of the shop. No way did Kanji want her to get involved in this - not that 'this' was gonna be a problem, screw Sonoda and his half-assed taunts and his idiot friends, all still blocking the alley entrance and making Kanji more and more nervous. She just needed to leave. Now. "It's fine, Senpai, these assholes are- -"
"Stay outta this, bitch," Arakaki growled, with a curt glance over his shoulder.
Short as she was, Kanji could barely see Chie with Sonoda's friends standing between them. He just caught a glimpse of green - and her very indignant response. "Yeah, right! You seriously think I'm gonna run from a bunch of cowards like you? Especially when you're picking on one of my friends!"
She was tough, no question. But there were five third-year guys and only one of her - and while she could handle herself in a fight just as well as Kanji, she had an equally poor grasp on her temper. "Dammit, Chie-senpai," he growled. "Don't get involved!"
"…'Chie-senpai'?" Sonoda broke into a broad, infuriating grin. "Hey, I know you! That bitch who's always hangin' off Amagi! Kanji-chan your new girl now?" he sneered at Chie, then turned back to Kanji, his eyebrows angled in mock concern. "Aw, but what about Shirogane? Your little boyfriend's gonna get jealous."
"Is that what this is about?" Chie snapped; Kanji still couldn't see her. "Naoto-kun's a girl, you morons!"
"Coulda fooled me." Sonoda almost spat the words. "Though you're way more of a man than Shirogane."
"Shut up! Like you'd know anything about being manly, you, you- -" The sentence disintegrated into an furious half-growl. Kanji had seen Chie lose her rag with Yosuke plenty of times; this was very different.
He grit his teeth. "Look, Sonoda. Just go, alright?"
"No problem. Kanji-chan's gotta run home and make more dollies, guys!"
"Stop saying that! The fuck's your problem?"
"Knew it all along," Sonoda crowed, sneering and smirking just like he always would, Kanji knew, just like everyone else. "All that tough-guy bullshit, swaggering around - and you're nothing but a faggot."
Kanji didn't register what he was doing until he'd thrown Sonoda against the wall and slammed a fist into his stomach.
The next swing - this one deliberate - connected with Sonoda's jaw and sent him crashing into the pile of boxes. His cronies started yelling and cursing, Chie's higher-pitched shouts cutting across theirs, and the next moment there were two guys behind Kanji - fists pounding hard against his back, hands ripping at his jacket. He backhanded one of them straight into the wall but the motion left him wide open, and something hard and heavy whacked against his midriff.
He doubled over in pain, choking down the bile in his throat yet still shaking with anger. Another punch glanced off his cheek, smashing his nose instead and sending him staggering directly into Arakaki. Disorientated, Kanji didn't think to launch an attack. Arakaki drew back one heavy fist, aimed directly at Kanji's face - then crashed down with a yell as Chie kicked his legs out from under him.
She was hopping from side to side, same battle stance she used inside the television - but this wasn't the television, they weren't saving anyone or anything, they were just- -
"Tatsumi, straighten up!" she ordered, trying to push him upright at the shoulder - then broke off, lunging forward and slamming her knee into another guy's groin.
Kanji couldn't help wincing. Didn't help that he was on the verge of throwing up. But Take-Mikazuchi was roaring in the back of his skull, riled up by the fight, and the instincts he'd honed fighting Shadows kicked in. He pivoted, swinging wide and fast into another long-haired guy's jaw. Might've been the one who'd hit him in the gut, Kanji couldn't tell - but he sure as hell recognized Sonoda, who was still wriggling on the ground, hands clutching his face.
There were more people shouting now. Not Sonoda's friends, they were all down - but Chie was yelling again, mixed in with a few more voices he couldn't place. He didn't care. It sounded too distant, like garbled speech being carried down a long tunnel. All that mattered was Sonoda, cursing and coughing and trying to push himself upright.
Kanji sped up the process, grabbing his collar, yanking him up from the ground and shoving him against the brick wall again. Sonoda stared at him, eyes wide with absolute terror - and Take-Mikazuchi rumbled with approval.
"You're the one fulla shit!" Kanji spat, both fists snarled tight around Sonoda's shirt. "And you're gonna leave me and Naoto and ev'ryone else alone, got it?"
Sonoda was trying to cringe away, hands clawing uselessly at Kanji's forearms. "O-Okay! C'mon, just let me go!"
Right now, Kanji wasn't sure if he could. He never had the chance to find out.
"What the hell's going on? Drop him, now!"
It wasn't Chie, or any of Sonoda's friends, or anyone else Kanji knew. Though he didn't want to take his eyes off Sonoda, he glanced toward the street - and saw two new figures blocking the alley entrance, both dressed in the blue uniforms of the Inaba police.
Kanji immediately released his grip on Sonoda's shirt, letting him crumple to the ground.
One of the cops - young and well-built, maybe only a few years older than him - Kanji didn't recognize. The other, however, was the same dick who'd been arguing with Naoto back in the summer. "Tatsumi," he said, voice laced with disgust. "Figures you'd be picking on other kids."
Wait. Was that what they thought - -
Kanji spun toward the older cop, not knowing how to explain and still desperate to try. "But I-I wasn't - he was -!"
"T-Tatsumi hit me first!" Sonoda cried, still cowering against the wall. "I-I never touched him!"
"I've seen you before too. Both punks!" the cop barked. "We should've let you take each other out."
Chie rounded on him, fists clenched at her sides. "This isn't Kanji-kun's fault, you morons weren't even here!"
Dammit, you didn't call the police morons. You sure as hell didn't brawl in the shopping district, either. This was different from the bikers, they'd swung first and Kanji had just been defending himself - but Sonoda, all he'd done was talk. Again and again, spouting stuff nobody had any right to say.
The younger cop moved closer. "We could take 'em both down to the station, sir."
"Yeah. Good idea."
"I don't believe this!" Chie raged. "You aren't even listening!"
"I know what I saw, kid. Tatsumi starting yet another fight."
Kanji could taste blood, trickling down from his cracked nose, but his mouth was dry. "But I - Sonoda, he just kept sayin' all this stuff, I didn't mean t'hit him!"
"Then you shouldn't have done it, bonehead," the cop snapped, unclipping a set of handcuffs from his belt. "'Bout time you thugs got what's coming to you."
It felt like Kanji had been sitting in the interview room for hours. It was hard to be sure. There was no clock on the wall, and the cop at the front desk had taken his phone.
While he'd been riding in a police car to the station, he'd managed to calm down by reminding himself that he'd been dragged in here before, usually for stuff he'd had nothing to do with or that hadn't even happened. Fact was, Kanji looked wrong. His build, his face and his clothes had caused a whole bunch of assumptions and his attitude had made the cops run with them. Making an example, they'd called it. Kanji had sat through their gruff lectures, brushed off the snide comments, safe in the knowledge he'd done nothing wrong.
The time was different - and worse than all the rest put together.
"Sonoda can press charges for assault." The cop who was interviewing him - Kuroda, something like that - leaned back in his chair. "If he wants."
Just a way to scare him, Kanji thought - until he remembered who'd swung first.
He tried to explain to Kuroda after that; a stumbling, messy account of everything Sonoda had done and said over the past few weeks. Though he held off on mentioning Naoto - she still had to work here - he spilled as much as he could, including the reason he'd finally broken. Tell a cop you made stuffed animals and that too many kids at school thought you might be into guys, and you deserved whatever shitty response you got, but Kanji's single desperate thought was that if he could just make somebody get it, the police would let him leave.
Kuroda didn't interrupt once. Just sat there and scribbled stuff in his notebook. At the end, when Kanji had finally run out of steam and could hardly talk past the rock hard lump in his throat, Kuroda leaned forward and laid his pen down on the table.
"Tatsumi, I can see why you did it. And Sonoda's in and out of this joint so often, he ought to pay rent," he said with a grimace. "But we don't have any witnesses other than his friends and that girl you were with, and they're telling two very different stories."
If it came down to Kanji or Sonoda, who were people more likely to believe? Two punks to choose between - but one of them had to have thrown the first punch. "I-I know. An' I did hit him. I just want people t'get why I did it." Kanji swallowed, staring fiercely at his hands. "I ain't a thug."
"You did a number on those bikers."
Shit, he'd never live that down. "Wouldn't stop revving their damn engines," he mumbled. "Woke my ma up."
"Yeah, and they started a rumble when you asked them to stop." The sentence seemed to end in a half-chuckle. Still looking down, Kanji couldn't see Kuroda's expression. "That story's pretty popular around these parts."
Was that supposed to make him feel better? The rumble with the bikers was something that'd seemed unavoidable in the blazing moment, but really stupid days or even hours later. Sure, he'd solved the noise problem, but Ma hadn't talked to him properly for a week after. Kanji had never told her exactly why he'd done it. He'd always hoped she knew anyway.
"You want me to keep everything in here?" Kuroda asked.
Confused, Kanji lifted his head. Kuroda was flicking through his notebook. "K-Keep what?"
"What Sonoda said that made you snap. The dolls, and…" Kuroda shot an odd, pointed glance at Kanji, then focused back on his notebook. "I can gloss over it in the report."
After all the questions Kuroda had asked, and the long, sprawling explanation he'd received in response, why wouldn't he want to type the whole thing up? It took Kanji several long moments to grasp what Kuroda was saying, and exactly which parts would be left out.
Most of the cops gave him enough shit as it was. Why make it easier for them?
"Would leaving it all in help get me outta here?" he asked, frowning.
Kuroda shrugged. "Probably not. Depends on what Sonoda decides to do. But some of the guys here - well. You get what I'm saying?"
"...Yeah. So why're you helpin'?"
"I've got a son your age. I'd say you'd both get on well, but it'd probably end in a slugging match." He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then shrugged again. "I've met plenty of thugs, Tatsumi. You're just a kid who needs to learn to keep his temper."
Kanji rubbed at his nose. Still ached. "Leave it out, then," he mumbled. "And - and thanks."
"Don't thank me yet. Let's see what happens first." Kuroda stood up, grabbed his notebook and pen in one hand and walked to the door. As he opened it, light spilled in - but he didn't leave. Kanji could hear him talking quietly with someone in the corridor, a murmuring that eventually ended with Kuroda glancing over his shoulder. "Someone to see you. Make it quick," he added, striding out of the room - with Souji walking inside a moment later.
He was still in his white winter pea-coat, hands shoved in his pockets, and he didn't move from the doorway. "Hey."
Right now, Souji was the first and last person Kanji wanted to see. "H-hey, Senpai," he said, forcing a smile and resisting the urge to launch into an apology. "Can't believe they let you in."
"Adachi-san pulled some strings. A lot of the cops know me anyway, I sometimes drop dinner off for my uncle." Souji paused, gaze fixed somewhere to Kanji's left. "Or I used to."
"Th-thanks for coming."
"Just needed to check you're okay. And you are," he said, with a slow nod. "So, I'll be leaving now."
"Senpai, wait, I-"
"Sorry, Kanji." Souji pulled one hand from his coat pocket and ran it through his hair, pausing to knead his knuckles against his left temple. "It's just - not a good time for anything. Definitely not for all this." He looked directly at Kanji. "Besides, Naoto wants to talk with you."
Hold on. Naoto was here?
Of course Naoto was here, this was the cop shop, she'd been coming here every night since they'd got Nanako back. And if Kanji hadn't wanted Souji to see him like this, Naoto would be even- -
"Later, Kanji." Souji left without waiting for an answer, and Naoto immediately walked in to take his place - like a conveyor belt of all the people Kanji couldn't handle talking with right now. Ma would probably be next.
Naoto walked briskly to the table, two manila folders tucked under one arm, a can of Orange Smash in the opposite hand. She placed them both on the surface, the second closer to Kanji's side than her own.
He gave a quick nod. "Thanks."
She nodded back and sat down in the opposite chair. Tall and lanky, Kuroda had made it look like kid's furniture; in Naoto's case, the table's edge reached her chest. She placed her elbows on the surface, staring at the can as Kanji cracked it open.
It was a weirdly quiet reaction, and not the one he'd expected. He paused, soda gripped in his hand. "Why'd you call Souji-senpai?"
"I didn't. I was in the records room here when they brought you and Sonoda in. I assume Chie-senpai contacted him."
Damn, he'd forgotten about Chie. She'd looked alright after the fight, but last time Kanji saw her, she'd been hollering down both of the cops. "Is she okay?"
"Based on the vigor of the diatribe she launched at the head sergeant, I would say she's fine. She insisted on coming here to state your case. I believe her father collected her a short while ago." Naoto's voice was as level as her expression, but something seemed…off.
Kanji hesitated, desperate for some sort of reassurance and equally desperate to hide it. "That cop, Kuroda. He - he said I might get locked up. Are they really gonna do that?"
She shook her head. "Scare tactics. I just spoke with Sonoda. He has…declined to press charges, meaning there's no legal justification for keeping you incarcerated." The odd pause made Kanji wonder exactly what she'd said to Sonoda, and why. "You'll be permitted to leave in the morning, if not before."
He swallowed the sigh of relief in a swig from his can. "Good. Don't wanna be late for school."
There wasn't much to say to that, so he wasn't bothered by the sudden silence. He was on the verge of breaking it, wanting to ask if all this could be kept from his ma, when Naoto shot out of her seat and slammed her palms against the table. "Kanji, what the hell were you thinking?"
Kanji knew his own brand of anger too well: you yelled, broke stuff, stormed around till you got it all out. Naoto's was very different. Strained, erratic, and startling - but only until his indignation kicked in. "You're raggin' on me? He started it!"
"Sonoda is a bigoted idiot! You - - I expected better," she snapped, leaning further toward him. "Was this - it was like the other occasions, I presume? A misguided attempt to defend me?"
"No. This one was between me an' him."
The taut fury drained from Naoto's expression. "What?"
Talking didn't help Kanji deal with stuff. Never had. He'd only spoken up so Naoto might finally realize she wasn't the center of the universe - but hey, she'd interrogate him anyway, would probably start up any moment, and if you'd once listened to someone spill whatever they'd needed to say then didn't that mean they had to listen back?
He took a deep breath. The knot behind his ribs twisted tighter. "It was the dolls. H-He found out."
Naoto sat back in the chair a lot more slowly than she'd shot out of it. She stared down at her hands for several long moments, palms still pressed against the table, before she spoke. "I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"For jumping to conclusions. And because Sonoda only began persecuting you due to your connection with me."
Kanji's eyes had started stinging with sudden, useless heat - and over what? Sonoda? He blinked hard and concentrated on slowing his breathing. "Not your fault," he choked out. "I was an idiot thinkin' Senpai's idea would ever work. N-Never shoulda put that display up."
It wasn't just Sonoda. So much else kept gnawing at him: Nanako getting so badly hurt, the fight with Namatame, whatever was happening with Souji. And, most of all, the piercing realization that even if Kanji someday managed to fully accept his Shadow, he'd never be able to change other people. They'd treat him the same way they always had, always would - and if that was true, what was the point in trying?
"I disagree," Naoto said, with a firm shake of her head. "There's nothing wrong with what you - "
"No, there is, an' there always was! It's the same every damn time, soon as anyone hears about that crap they treat me like a freak!" Kanji gulped for breath and pressed his lips together. He needed to shut up, man up, because whining like a pansy was only making him feel worse - but the words kept scraping up his throat and surging out. "An' I just - I-I'm sick of it, y'know?"
"Yes." Naoto's voice had turned almost too quiet to hear.
"It - it ain't fair," he blurted, slamming his fist on the table in vivid punctuation. "A-Accepting myself is fricking hard enough, s'even harder when nobody else does."
"I do."
Kanji almost flinched; Naoto barely moved. She stared at him for a moment, intense and unreadable, then quickly looked away. "We all do," she added. "Souji-senpai, and the others."
…Right. All of them.
Kanji was reading too much into this. He couldn't do anything else, storing up all these useless glances and moments and trying to build some sort of meaning - one that, right now, he desperately wanted to believe. But he wasn't stupid.
Leaning back in his chair, he tried his best to calm his breathing. "Uh..thanks," he managed, convinced his racing heartbeat would drown out his voice. "T-To alla you, I mean."
"Yes." Naoto exhaled slowly, blue-grey eyes drifting to the folders on the table. "Of course."
An odd silence fell; this time, filled up with all the things Kanji wanted to say but didn't have the right words to shape. And he had no idea what he should say, instead. Story of his life - except he realized now that Naoto probably didn't either. The thought was comforting.
Eventually, he cleared his throat. "You, uh, gonna stay here till - till you're done with work?"
"Actually, I need to leave now." Naoto stood up as she said it, grabbing the manila folders. "Souji-senpai has agreed to accompany me to my apartment before he returns home."
Kanji swallowed hard, hands tensing in his lap. "Y'never asked anyone to walk you back before."
Naoto glared at him. Maybe she'd been going for anger, but it came off as uneasy. "I do not require Senpai's protection, I just - need to talk to him," she said, squaring her shoulders. "And I bear no obligation to justify that."
"Yeah. Sorry," Kanji said, well aware that they were both being dickish about this in their own way, and that one of them would have to back down first. "I know, you gotta figure stuff out with him."
The only response was Naoto walking toward the closed door - though she stopped halfway, and turned back to face Kanji. "That you felt frustrated with Sonoda is entirely understandable," she said, "but you should have kept your composure. The last two encounters did not end in violence."
"Last two encounters, you made me back off."
It was brutally honest, but he was too ground down for anything else. Naoto studied him carefully, eyebrows slightly angled.
"I know, it ain't right," he admitted. "But all shitheads like Sonoda wanna do is hurt people, an' I can't stand that."
Her expression softened a little, or as soft as Naoto - all fine angles and sharp edges - ever got. Several seconds passed before she spoke. "My word counts for even less around here than it did in the summer. Unfortunately, rumours travel quickly," she added - bitterness mixed with resignation. "But I'll discuss your situation with Kuroda and the other senior officers before I leave. With no charges to press, keeping you here overnight serves no purpose."
"Thanks." Unlike most of Kanji's smiles lately, this one wasn't forced. "Even if they do keep me longer - s'enough that you tried, yeah?"
"Trying will never be enough," Naoto muttered, glancing at the folders under her arm, then shook her head. "I should be leaving. Goodnight, Kanji-kun."
"Night." Kanji nodded, Naoto dipping her cap in turn - and he watched her leave the room, the door clicking shut behind her.