Doing my best to improve my update rate. Combination of RL commitments, overly long chapters, fussiness. Sorry, I know the wait is frustrating. Really appreciate those of you who are sticking with the story nonetheless. (Just realized it broke 200K words last chapter? Terrifying)
This interlude covers Dec 3rd. Next episode will have a dose of levity. Advance warning - we veer slightly away from the game's plotline over the next few installments.
Story so far: The team tried to build bridges via a picnic and shopping trip – culminating in a phone call Souji never wanted to receive.
In this interlude: Namatame is still a threat, but Naoto finds the perfect solution.
December 3rd, 2011
The records room in the Inaba police station was close to the center of the building, and had no cellphone reception. Naoto hadn't thought this would ever matter.
She'd been poring over shelves of dusty folders – some stuffed with yellowing paperwork that dated back two generations - in the hope of finding some clue that could be used in the case, some past reference to Namatame that the other investigators had missed. The Inaba department was nothing if not hopelessly disorganized and after two hours she'd conceded defeat. Not until she was back at her desk, ten minutes later, did she think to check her phone.
Naoto entered the hospital lobby almost at a jog, Rise's choked message – that it didn't matter what Naoto was doing, she needed to get to the hospital right now - still echoing in her head. It had taken too long to get here; Inaba's only cab company had few drivers willing to risk the fog and she hadn't felt able to ask any of her colleagues for transport. Ishikawa had been the one she'd finally approached, if only because he had always treated her as indifferently as everyone else. She'd been surprised that he agreed. As she stood in the elevator, she wondered whether she'd remembered to thank him.
Nanako's room was on the fifth floor. Naoto had expected to see the team standing in the corridor outside, but instead found only Rise and Kanji – the former hunched over in a chair, the latter standing by the window and staring at the floor. "Rise-chan?"
Rise shot to her feet. "Naoto-kun! I-I'm sorry, I should've called sooner, we were just rushing here and-"
"It's fine. How is Nanako-chan?"
The question needn't have been asked. Rise's expression was answer enough. "N-Not good. The doctors said she might - " She bit her lip and shook her head.
Naoto glanced at Kanji. He hadn't spoken since her arrival. She wasn't certain he had even looked up.
She turned back to Rise. "I assume the senpai are- -"
The sentence was cut off by a sudden cry from inside Nanako's room. It was painful, rough-edged, and though Naoto couldn't discern any words – couldn't even be certain who'd made it - its meaning was obvious.
Rise stared at the door, eyes already glistening. "Oh, no..." She stepped back once, twice, then crumpled into the chair she'd stood from and started sobbing.
Numbly, Naoto sat down beside her. The door to the room clicked open, and she turned to see Dojima walking out, closely followed by one of the doctors.
" – did everything we could, but we just ran out of time," the doctor was saying. She couldn't see his face – Kanji was blocking her view – but the sorrow in his voice was evident.
Dojima made no response. As he limped down the corridor past her, Naoto saw his expression perfectly, and wished she hadn't.
Though they'd frequently clashed during in the summer, she respected Dojima. He deserved his privacy. But Rise - whose sobs were closer to convulsions, who hadn't even looked up at the sound of the opening door - Rise, Naoto could help to calm, so that Souji wouldn't have to-
The thought was shattered by Kanji's pained roar and the sickening thud of his knuckles against the corridor wall.
Part of Naoto's mind was instinctively disgusted by this lack of self-control. Another was concerned by the potential damage to his hand. Another still looked at him – shoulders heaving, palms and head pressed against the wall – and wished desperately she could fix things. "Kanji-kun- -" she began, but she'd opened her mouth without knowing what to say. Then he glanced sideways, caught her eye, and she realized she never would.
Comforting others was too foreign a task. She'd gripped Rise's shoulder at some point, her hand moving with each shuddering sob, but Naoto had no idea what else to do, just that it was vital to do something, if only to avoid thinking about- -
No. Process it later.
Footsteps sounded down the corridor to her left. Shoes, not slippers, and therefore unlikely to be Dojima's. She peered around Rise and saw Adachi ambling toward them, suit rumpled and tie typically askew.
"Hey, Shirogane - what's with Dojima-san?" he asked. "He's given me some looks before, but..."
Kanji, still leaning against the wall, did not look up. "Hell are you doin' back here."
"Nothing much. Why, what's wrong?" A slow dread crept over Adachi's face. "Wait...is Nanako-chan-"
"Don't act like you frickin' care." Kanji pivoted to face him, fists tight. "'Or d'you still want me to put you through a TV?"
Such an overreaction was partially excusable given the circumstances, but one of them ought to keep their composure. Naoto laid a hand on his forearm. "Kanji-kun, there's no-"
The door opened a second time. She'd expected Souji, but Yosuke walked out instead.
"Souji...asked me to check on his uncle," he said, voice still rough and unsteady. Naoto wondered if it was his cry she'd heard. "Make sure he gets back to his room."
Adachi blinked. "Uh...he was kinda heading in the wrong direction."
"Dojima-san was walking toward the elevators. His room is two floors down," Naoto pointed out.
"Exactly. Two floors down. He went up."
"You sure?" Yosuke asked.
"Yeah, he took the car I got out of. But why would he -" Adachi paled, worry lining his forehead. "- oh, crap, he wouldn't..."
"Wouldn't what?"
"N-Namatame. He's on the ninth floor. But Dojima-san isn't-"
Yosuke looked aghast. "Namatame's still here?"
Among the Inaba police force, it was a poorly kept secret that Taro Namatame was being treated at the same hospital as two of his victims. Naoto had elected not to divulge it to the team; Yosuke's reaction validated her choice.
"He hasn't been transported yet," Adachi attempted to explain, "we're trying to-"
One long stride, and Kanji grabbed his collar. "You're trying? How about you fricking do something instead?"
"Kanji-kun, stop it!"
Rise's sobs had grown so quiet, Naoto had tuned them out. Now she was glaring at Kanji, tears streaming down her face. The anger in his expression drained away in an instant - and with a mumbled apology, he released Adachi and backed away. It was...disconcerting that Rise had disarmed him so easily, but his emotions were running high.
Naoto wondered distantly why her own weren't. The sorrow she'd felt the night they returned from Heaven's Castle had almost driven her to break down in this same corridor, and yet now was entirely absent. In its place was a single wrenching, sickening certainty: that Namatame had murdered Nanako, and no-one would be able to prove it.
"Your assumptions concerning Dojima-san's intentions are most likely inaccurate," she heard herself saying. "Yosuke-senpai and I will check the ninth floor, to make certain."
Adachi looked at her, bemused and bewildered as ever. "Y-Yeah, okay. Room 912. Turn left from the elevator and take the second right."
"Tell the others where we are," Yosuke said to Kanji, then slipped past Adachi and followed Naoto down the corridor.
The elevators were close and she'd hoped to avoid conversation on the way. Yosuke disappointed her.
"What the hell were they thinking, keeping Namatame here?" he muttered. "And why didn't Adachi tell us?"
"This is Inaba's largest and best-equipped hospital." The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside. "And the details of a suspect's hospitalization are strictly confidential, Senpai."
She didn't need to look at Yosuke to know he was rolling his eyes. "Give me a break, Naoto-kun. You know it's a dumb idea too."
No, it was an idea born of difficult circumstances. The doctors knew as little about Namatame's condition as they did – had – Nanako's, and the nearest hospital with sufficient expertize to treat him was fifty miles away. Explaining this, however, would not improve Yosuke's temperament.
The elevator reached the ninth floor, and the doors opened to the sound of an angry, raised voice.
"I need permission? Who gave him permission to kill Nanako? Tell me that!"
Adachi needn't have bothered with directions. Yosuke and Naoto glanced at each other, then ran toward the source of the commotion. At the end of a long corridor, in front of room 912, Dojima was grappling with two uniformed police guards. Neither seemed certain how to handle the situation, or fully convinced that they should keep their superior officer out of the room.
Naoto stepped closer. "Dojima-san, please –"
"Stay out of this, Shirogane!" he snapped without turning, and shoved past the leaner of the two guards. "I know you're in there, Namatame!"
"Dojima-san," the other guard was saying, "you need to return to your room, you're going to make yourself-"
"Give Nanako back, you bastard!" Dojima's stance quivered with rage but his voice was ragged, and his shoulders began to curve. "She's - she's all I have, she's - the only..." He sagged, knees buckling - the two guards barely able to support his weight.
"Dojima-san!" Adachi was running toward them. "Quick, get him back to his room, I'll alert the doctors!"
His decision to come here was unsurprising given Kanji's earlier behaviour. Naoto chalked the sudden hostility up to grief; Adachi was frequently stupid, misguided, or both, but not malicious. He'd already dashed off again in search of a doctor, the two guards following at a slower pace with Dojima hanging between them.
As the men left, Naoto glanced at Yosuke, who stood facing the closed door to Namatame's room.
"Adachi-san said the charges won't stick," he said.
"...Yes."
"And that there's no way to prove Namatame's guilt in court." He glared at her, lips curled into a painful attempt at a sneer. "You, you're supposed to be a hotshot detective, can't you do something?"
Naoto forced herself not to flinch.
Yosuke's question was one she had been asking herself ever since Nanako-chan disappeared. The answer was now painfully obvious. She swallowed, her throat tight. "A conviction is next to impossible."
"Guess Dojima-san knew that too."
"As do we."
Yosuke's gaze met her own, and stayed locked for a moment too long.
We're the only ones who know what he really deserves. Kanji's words. He'd probably thought nothing of them, but they'd played on her mind all week.
Nanako was dead. Namatame had murdered her. No-one could prove it.
Naoto turned, breaking eye contact with Yosuke, and they walked back to the elevators.
When they reached Nanako's room, Rise and Kanji had been joined by the other senpai. Yukiko had taken the seat between Rise and Chie and, despite her own tears, was attempting to comfort them both. Kanji was still starting out of the window. Souji, meanwhile, stood just outside the door, looking so set apart from his friends that they may as well have been on different planets. He turned and his eyes were wet with unshed tears - but empty, hollow. "Kanji said you'd gone after my uncle?" he said.
"Dojima-san went to Namatame's room." Naoto steeled herself. "Which nobody is currently guarding."
The sentence hung in the air.
"We could talk to him," Yosuke said, too casually. "If we're quick."
Yukiko glanced up, one hand still clutching Chie's. "B-But we can't just-"
"S'good idea," Kanji interrupted.
"I - " Souji ran his palm over his face, smearing wetness from his eyes to his cheeks. "I don't know if –"
Yosuke grabbed his arm. "C'mon, partner. Won't take long."
They ushered him away, the remainder of the team following. Souji didn't say a word as they walked, or as the elevator climbed to the ninth floor, or as they finally stood outside Namatame's unguarded room, swapping nervous glances and shuffling their feet against the tiled floor.
After much coaxing from Yukiko, Chie had finally stemmed her tears. "Guys, I-I don't think this is a good idea. Can't we just go home?"
Yosuke's hand was already on the door. "We're just gonna talk to him," he said, and pushed it open. He was the first inside, Naoto a moment behind.
The room beyond was large and cold. Far colder than the rest of the hospital – and the source was the open window on the opposite wall. Namatame was nowhere to be seen.
Surely he hadn't-
Kanji sucked in a breath. "Shit, the window – don't tell me that bastard -"
Whoever was last to enter had closed the door behind them. Faint light from street lamps seeped through the fog outside, but only enough to identify outlines: a bed here, a television there. Naoto stepped further inside, wondering how an injured man could possibly flee from the ninth floor – and, as she passed the bed nearest the window, heard a broken sob that indicated he hadn't. Souji was behind her in a moment, breathing almost as hard as the figure huddled beneath the window.
It was unlikely that Namatame recognized any of his would-be victims in the dim light, but still he shrank back further. "I–I–I c-can't- -"
"Everything that's happened," Souji said, barely more than a whisper, "and you won't face what you've done?"
"No surprise there." Kanji moved between her and Souji, grabbed the collar of Namatame's gown, and pulled him away from the wall.
"We should observe him carefully," Naoto said. "Someone turn on the lig-"
Behind her, the television flickered into life.
There was no image at first, only the hiss and crackle of static. Naoto assumed one of them had stepped on the remote in the dark. Then the grey noise resolved itself into a figure, and the static into chuckling.
"It must be midnight," Rise said. "But why are we seeing-"
On the screen was Namatame - not the man cowering beside them in a hospital gown, but the Namatame they'd met and fought in Heaven's castle. Judging by the stone statues behind him, he was still there. The sky was cloudless, and cast garish blue light into the hospital room.
The camera zoomed in on his face. "I failed to save her. And it's your fault."
Yosuke glanced between the man on the floor and his twin on the screen. "Wait, a third Namatame? How? The real one's here and we already beat his Shadow."
"Which he never faced," Naoto said. "It never returned to his body as a Persona."
"I failed," the Shadow repeated, "but it wasn't my fault – and the law can't touch me."
Yukiko drew a sharp breath. "...Is this what he's really thinking?"
Namatame's Shadow tipped back his green cap, his eyes glowing yellow beneath. The over-saturated colours looked surreal. "I'll continue "saving" people. It's my mission," he added, and Naoto's stomach seemed to crawl down to her feet.
His mission. He'd do it all over again. Nanako was dead, Namatame had murdered her, Namatame would kill many more and nobody would ever be able to prove any of it.
Yosuke lurched forward, as if – absurdly – to attack the man on screen. "No way. No way is he gonna-"
"Living or dying, it makes no difference." The Shadow shrugged. "Do whatever you want with me."
It sounded like a challenge. Or an invitation.
Naoto glanced at Souji – limbs stiff, mouth tight, and his terrible empty eyes – then immediately looked back at the television. Horizontal lines flickered over the screen, and the Shadow's lips twisted into a sneering smile. "Except you can't. You can't do it, can you?"
...Couldn't they, now.
Enough provocation and a response was guaranteed. Namatame knew this. Perhaps he wanted to be stopped. Naoto was disinclined to care. The Shadow was gone now, his low laughter cut off by the end of the Midnight Channel transmission, and the television's screen was as dark as the room.
"No, no," Namatame babbled, "not me - never said it – not what I-I-"
"He gave us permission." Kanji stepped toward him.
Yukiko recoiled. "Wha- -no, Kanji-kun!"
"Are you crazy?" Chie hissed, with a sharp, nervous gesture toward the closed door. "What're you going to do, beat him up in a hospital?"
Kanji hesitated, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "...Never said that."
Nonetheless, it was a salient point. Physical violence would attract an unwanted level of attention. They needed to prevent future murders, deliver justice for those that had already occurred - and they had to do so within the confines of this room, without alerting staff or leaving evidence.
The others had fallen into an argument. Naoto stepped aside, seeking space to think, and caught her elbow against the edge of the television set.
She turned, then lifted her hand and skimmed it over the surface of the screen. Ripples followed her fingers.
"This must be a luxury suite," she said. The arguing abruptly stopped. "Most hospital rooms don't have such large televisions."
Chie's voice trembled. "Naoto-kun?"
"A careless oversight. By entering this, the suspect could escape at a moment's notice. And, should he choose to do so, he might find that there's no way out."
"Wait, you - are you actually serious?" Rise asked.
Naoto gave a single, tight nod.
It was perfect. An obvious escape to the few members of the police force who put stock in the television theory. Leave the window open, and the remainder would choose to believe he escaped through that. By tomorrow, it would no longer matter.
"Naoto's right," Yosuke said. He and Kanji were flanking Namatame, who rocked back and forth between them. "All we have to do is put him in. One thing. Then it's all over."
By this stage, his tone held more exhaustion than anger. Naoto could sympathize. One thing, and this case – one of the most harrowing she'd worked, purely because she'd grown attached – would finally end. Nothing would bring Nanako back, but they could ensure her death would be the last.
Or second to last.
"You – you can't. It's wrong!" Rise protested. "Naoto-kun, Yosuke-senpai, how can you even imagine doing that?"
"Exactly! What's gotten into you guys?" Chie raised her hands, palms up. "I-I mean, what if they find our fingerprints when – when he's-"
"Incurred in our attempt to prevent his escape," Naoto said.
This improbable scenario was most likely an attempt to stall. The three girls wore near-identical looks of anxiety – though where Chie's was tinged with frustration, and Yukiko's with disbelief, Rise looked close to tears. It was fortunate, Naoto decided, that at least one individual in the room remained capable of rational thought.
For some reason, Chie now chose to direct her hysteria at Yosuke. "This is crazy! We can't do something like that!"
"You're okay with letting him off the hook?" Yosuke snarled. "Letting all of it happen all over again?"
"This isn't about what I'm okay with! Souji, talk to him!"
Souji's loss was by far the greatest. He would understand why they needed to do this. But he'd said nothing since the Midnight Channel's conclusion, and Chie's appeal was answered with a shake of his head. In the dim light, Naoto couldn't decode his expression, and doubted she wanted to.
Something odd and cold was twisting behind her ribs. She squared her shoulders. "Those of you who want no part of this are welcome to leave."
Kanji hadn't moved from Namatame's side. "S'right. Any of you wanna turn your back and walk away, fine. I ain't."
Nanako was dead. Namatame had murdered her. Proving it was irrelevant, because Namatame would not kill again.
Naoto turned to Souji. "Senpai?"
Silence. Souji stared at Namatame, unmoving, unblinking - then turned away. "...Throw the bastard in."
For a heartbeat, the room was utterly still. Then everything happened at once.
Yosuke and Kanji grabbed Namatame's arms and began to drag him across the floor. Namatame kicked out, trying to tangle his legs around the metal bed-frame, his broken pleas – "No, no – p-please, I didn't – I-I was trying to help!" - ignored. Chie launched forward straight into Souji's outstretched arm, and Rise was telling him they couldn't do this, they couldn't, did he have any idea what he was saying?
Yukiko had turned her attentions elsewhere. "Kanji-kun, please – you're better than this!"
Kanji ignored her. He and Yosuke had reached the television and they yanked Namatame to his feet. He hung from their arms, momentarily suspended between them both, before they tipped him toward the screen – his body twisting, legs kicking wildly.
"Please," he begged, "I-I just wanted to save her! So she wouldn't be killed!"
Naoto paused.
A grunt came from Souji's direction. Though he was still facing the door, she saw him stagger a moment, one hand clutching his head.
"And now we'll save you." Yosuke lifted Namatame at the waist and forced his head through the rippling screen.
...No. One thing, and it was all over. She held her breath, watching Namatame's fingers clutch uselessly at the the television's frame, Kanji and Yosuke dodging his flailing legs. The moment stretched out as they tilted him further and further forward, time almost seeming to stop – until Souji lunged forward, grabbed the back of Namatame's gown, and pulled hard.
Unprepared, Kanji and Yosuke both released their grip, and Namatame tumbled back into the room.
"Stop." Souji's shoulders heaved with each ragged breath. "W-We aren't doing this."
Kanji glared at him. "The hell?"
Senpai was a rational man. Why would he –
"Why not?" Naoto blurted.
"Because it isn't right." He stared at Namatame, now curled up and shivering on the floor. "Because we're not like him."
"You're the one sayin' it," Kanji growled, grabbing Namatame's arm again.
Naoto felt her jaw tense. "Senpai, perhaps you should leave the room."
"Fine. Let me give you another reason: what if we're wrong?" Souji said, with unbearable patience. "You've worked non-stop on Namatame's case since we brought him back. Why do you think it's been so difficult to prove him guilty?"
Because there was insufficient admissible evidence. Because a court of law would never believe tales of monsters inside televisions.
This was ridiculous. When had she started looking instinctively to one person for guidance – for permission, even? She'd always acted alone and she'd certainly never followed the lead of those she outdid in both skill and experience.
...But there was more to it, wasn't there?
Souji studied her. "Naoto-kun?"
Souji Seta possessed something Naoto didn't, something she couldn't even name. And he'd tugged out the doubts she'd shoved to the back of her mind: Namatame's solid alibi for the first murder, the lack of a clear motive, the confusion over what 'saving' truly meant.
I just wanted to save her, so she wouldn't be killed.
What if Souji was right?
Naoto swallowed, hard. "Very well."
Yosuke's eyes widened. "Oh, hell, no - you're bailing too? Kanji, you're still sane, right?"
"I -" Kanji frowned. His grip on Namatame's arm loosened. "Shit, I dunno. Can't follow any of this."
"You want revenge. I do too," Souji said, carefully. "But we have to find the truth."
With a hissed curse, Yosuke stormed so close to Souji they were almost toe-to-toe. "The 'truth' is that bastard killed three people. He murdered Nanako-chan! How the hell can you be so calm?"
"Yosuke - "
"No, don't even start! If you're too gutless to follow through on this, I'll do it myself, because I actually give a shit that Saki-senpai and Nanako-chan are-"
The crack of Souji's hand against his face cut him short.
To his credit, he made no sound. He simply steadied himself and stared back at Souji, both of them breathing hard.
"Yosuke." Souji lowered his hand. "Shut up."
Save for the sound of Namatame's sobs, the room was silent. An angry red patch had already blossomed on Yosuke's cheek; at least Souji had chosen an open palm over a fist.
"Guys," Rise began, voice quivering, "we need to calm down. Please."
Chie nodded. "Y-Yeah. Doing this wouldn't change anything." Yosuke let out a grunt at that, but nothing else.
"Exactly. We need to take a step back," Souji said. His expression shifted – and in a detached tone, as if reciting words from a script, he added, "This may be a time for contemplation rather than action."
"Rich coming from the guy who just whacked me in the face." Yosuke muttered, rubbing at his cheek. He sighed. "C'mon. Those guards won't be gone long. Let's get out of here."
While the rest of the team headed to the ground floor lobby, Souji went to check on his uncle, and Naoto had followed. This was a reasonable choice; Dojima was a respected colleague. Naoto had explained this to Rise - whom Souji had eventually dissuaded from following – with only limited success.
When they arrived, the doctors had mildly sedated Dojima and were still treating his reopened wounds. Souji had suggested this as the reason for the sedation, though the more likely aim was to keep his uncle in one place. He and Naoto stood together outside Dojima's room, Souji peering through the small glass window on the door, and though the silence was uncomfortable, she felt no better when he broke it.
"I told my uncle I'd save her," he said.
As had Naoto, immediately after Nanako's kidnapping. Promises they'd failed to keep.
Souji turned to look at her. "Did I make the right choice?"
"I'm sorry?"
"That might've been our one chance. But – I think we did the right thing. My head, it was the same feeling as when-"
If there was an ending to the statement, he chose not to voice it. Naoto straightened her back. "Senpai, you were right to stop us. My judgment was clouded."
"You weren't alone."
"No. But I know better than to behave so irrationally." Even if it had seemed rational at the time, and – to an extent – still did.
"I wanted to hurt him too." Souji winced, and shook his head. "I - wanted you and Yosuke and Kanji to hurt him."
Naoto had chosen to believe that Souji did not truly understand the sway he held over his friends. The alternative was too dangerous. Yet, even if he did, there was a limit to his influence. "And it would have been our choice."
He turned back to the door, eyes closed. "I've been a hypocrite. Spent two weeks hung up on the stuff Rise heard when we fought Namatame, and then I tell you all to kill someone."
"It wasn't your idea, Senpai. And...we understand your prior frustration at our behaviour." It was a half-truth at best, but Souji seemed - different. Fragile, even, and honesty felt too brutal.
"I thought you all looked up to me, that you were ungrateful because you didn't." He chuckled in a way Naoto didn't like at all; humourless and desperate. "I don't know what to think, now. What sort of person I really am."
"Kanji-kun says we all have dark aspects to our personalities, even those of us who have confronted our Shadows." Though from what Naoto recalled, his delivery had been somewhat less polite. "...I cannot replicate his exact phrasing."
Souji's mouth quirked in a strange, slight smile. "Not many people could. He also says you're clocking too many hours at the police station."
Which was absolutely none of Kanji's business. Naoto glared on principle, though Souji appeared not to notice.
"I heard him complaining to Yukiko on the way back from the river," he continued. "I didn't realize until then...you've been putting everything you have into helping prosecute Namatame." His expression was thoughtful, soft - and entirely unfamiliar. "Thank you."
Since joining the team, Naoto had desperately wanted Souji to acknowledge her efforts. She hadn't anticipated how awkward she would feel when he did. "You permitted me to join your group because of my abilities as a detective," she said, trying to ignore the heat racing over her face. "Ineffective as they may have proven."
The same strange smile. "That wasn't the reason."
"W-We should return to the lobby," Naoto managed, already turning away in the hope she wouldn't catch fire.
"Go on ahead. Tell the others I won't be long." At her look of confusion, he explained further. "I – there's somewhere I have to go. A favour I need to ask."
Despite her curiosity, something in his expression told Naoto not to press the issue. Instead, she dipped her cap and walked back to the elevators – noticing as she did that, rather than going somewhere, Souji had turned to stare at one of the corridor's blank walls.
Down in the lobby, the rest of the team were huddled together on two opposing rows of chairs: Rise, Chie and Yukiko on one side, Kanji in the center of the other, and Yosuke standing behind him with a cellphone pressed to one ear. Kanji glanced at Naoto as she approached, then went back to staring at the narrow gap under Chie's chair.
Something seemed amiss, yet there was nothing unusual in his expression. Naoto took the seat facing Rise, and pushed the matter no further.
"Souji-senpai will be down shortly," she explained. "He has...somewhere to go first."
"Okay. I hope he's done soon." Rise looked at Kanji, her head slightly tipped. "You okay, Kanji-kun?"
He was hunched over, arms resting sideways on his knees. Several moments passed before he answered. "I almost did it. Almost good as killed the guy. Didn't think I was like that."
"You're not," Rise shot back.
Naoto leaned back in the chair, arms tightly folded, shoulders angled forward. "It was my idea."
"You weren't the one draggin' him across the floor."
"Would it have crossed your mind had I not proposed it?"
Kanji glanced at her over his shoulder. "I wanted to stop the bastard before you said a word."
She held his gaze, jaw tensed. "But would you have thrown him in?"
"...Prob'ly not."
The sense of victory was both fleeting and ridiculous. "Exactly," she said, though he'd already looked away. "Rise is correct in her estimation."
"Yeah. Kanji-kun's just a hothead. Maybe Yosuke-senpai too." Rise looked at her, then, eyes suddenly wary. "But Naoto-kun isn't."
The question was clear, but Naoto had no ready answer.
She had acted without due consideration, on feelings she hadn't recognized. An 'ace detective' willing to accept the most convenient answer and the vengeful solution that sprang from it. But assume Namatame was guilty, that more innocents might die by his hand and the team had been in a unique position to prevent it. Why wouldn't they?
Rise, Chie and Yukiko had been horrified at the prospect. Naoto couldn't fathom why. And perhaps that was the problem.
She looked up, caught Rise's expectant expression, and tried for the best explanation she could. "The majority of the cases I've worked have been centered on violent crime. Murder, rape, arson, for example. Repeated exposure to a stimulus can lessen its effect." Noticing Rise's frown, Naoto attempted to clarify. "It makes you – see things in a different light."
It was a sanitized answer – preferable to makes you less human – and Rise seemed placated.
"Well, I'm angry at him too," she said. "I just wouldn't have – you know. Even knowing he won't go to jail."
Idols did not typically work serial murder cases. Rise could be forgiven her lax attitude. "Twice before I've watched a culprit walk away and been powerless to stop them," Naoto said. "This time, I wasn't."
"But you're better than that! We all are. Killing someone because we think they deserve it...that's just wrong."
"Not if they're gonna go kill more people," Yosuke cut in.
Chie had been deep in whispered conversation with Yukiko, but his voice caught her attention. "C'mon, Yosuke. Just – drop it for a moment, okay?"
"...Yeah. Sorry." He let out a breath, blowing loose strands of hair from his face. "Hey, can one of you try calling Teddie? I can't get through, keep getting a service recording."
Yukiko had already flipped her phone open. "I thought he'd stayed with – in Nanako-chan's room."
"Me too, but I checked on the way down and he wasn't there. Hey, Souji...we can't find Ted, have you seen him?"
Naoto twisted in her seat. Behind her, Souji was approaching the row of chairs. The hard line of his mouth was unchanged, but his steps were lighter, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his back. "No, but I doubt he'll have left by himself."
He slipped around Yosuke and half-fell into the seat next to Kanji, who eyed him critically. "You look like crap, Senpai."
"Thanks, Kanji."
"Are you doing okay?" Chie asked. "I-I mean, as much as you can be."
At that – and for no reason Naoto could discern - Souji actually smiled. "I think I am, now."
Yukiko frowned. "What do you mean by-"
"Seta!"
Souji looked over his shoulder toward the elevators. "Something up, Adachi-san?"
Adachi stood behind them – pale, out-of-breath, and even more disheveled than usual. "Yeah, you have to come back upstairs! This – it's gonna sound crazy but, Nanako-chan, she – she came around!"
Yosuke's eyes widened. "Came around? But she was -"
"I know." Souji rose from his seat. "Come on, let's go see her."
Unsurprisingly, Nanako-chan had not woken. It had been irrational to imagine she might – though there was little rational about a dead child returning to life to begin with, or that Souji almost appeared to expect it. Lazarus syndrome, the attending doctors had suggested, to the general indifference of everyone else in the room. Half of them had been too busy crying, while the rest pretended not to. Owing to his sedation, Dojima had not been among them, until Souji's request that he be wheeled up by one of the staff. The team had left ten minutes later, leaving him holding his daughter's hand.
Satisfied, and some still a little tearful, they went down to the lobby together. While Yosuke continued to call Teddie, the others made plans as to who would walk home with whom in the fog.
The snow, they hadn't expected.
Yukiko peered up around the entrance awning. "December third, and it's snowing? That's strange."
"Everything 'bout this weather is," Kanji muttered.
After moving to her grandfather's estate, Naoto had soon grown to enjoy the snow. It was a predictable, comforting part of each Takayama winter. In Inaba, and especially in the fog, it felt out of place.
Chie had stepped out from the awning, and the falling flakes were catching in her hair. "It's pretty, though. Or I guess it would be without the fog. Yosuke, did you get through to Ted yet?"
Yosuke shook his head. "I dunno where he is."
"We could all look for him on our way home," Yukiko suggested.
"I'll wait here for a while in case he comes back," Souji said. "He probably doesn't know about Nanako-chan."
Although Teddie would find his own way back eventually – and although their energies would be better spent on the questions raised by the night's events – Naoto couldn't swallow the surge of concern. It was easy to forget that Teddie's experience of this world amounted to barely five months.
Rise latched on to her arm. "C'mon, Naoto-kun. You, me and Kanji-kun can search the shopping district," she said, and began walking without waiting for an answer. Tugged along in her wake, Naoto caught a glimpse of Kanji following close behind, and of Chie, Yukiko and Yosuke heading in the opposite direction.
She'd expected one of them to remain with Souji. Naoto had little talent for interpreting others' expressions, but something about Senpai's had looked wrong, and his smile had turned brittle.
Rise looked no better and her grip was almost painful. Naoto studied her – dark circles under her eyes, teeth worrying her bottom lip – and whispered, "Are you alright?"
"Yeah. Just - you know," she said, with a laugh that sounded like porcelain. "I really, really hate this fog."
Rise had offered little detail on her current state, but Naoto had always prided herself on her powers of observation. If, as she suspected, the fog here was similar to the fog in the television, Rise was in an unenviable situation. "Because your Persona instinctively attempts to see through it, correct?"
"...Souji-senpai says I have to try and turn her off," Rise said – then stopped walking and turned around.
Kanji stood a meter or so away, frowning. "What?"
"I – sorry, guys. I just -" Rise gulped for breath, blinking hard. "S-Souji-senpai, he shouldn't be by himself right now. I'll make my own way home." With that she ran back toward the hospital, her figure soon disappearing into the fog.
"Ten thousand yen says Hanamura's beaten her to it," Kanji muttered.
The snow hadn't let up. At least Teddie might leave footprints they could track. "Let's check the shopping district as planned."
"But you – " Kanji paused, frowned. "We, uh, could walk to your place first."
Naoto shook her head. "Teddie would most likely go somewhere familiar, and he has never visited my apartment." A fact for which she was intensely (if somewhat guiltily) grateful. "And – I'd prefer to accompany you during the search."
Kanji stared at her.
"Two people can cover an area more efficiently," she quickly added.
"Oh." He ran a hand through his damp hair, dislodging unmelted snowflakes. "Yeah."
Naoto resolved to ignore the blush tinging his cheeks - and hoped he'd miss the heat creeping over her own.
"Dammit. If he's here, he doesn't wanna be found."
Most likely Teddie wasn't here at all. They'd twice walked the length of the district, checked each side alley they passed, and searched every corner of the shrine. Naoto had been distracted throughout. An odd pain had been gnawing inside her chest - a sensation similar to the night they'd rescued Nanako but lacking any justification.
She looked up at Kanji. "Perhaps we should stop for the night."
"Yeah. Just - " Kanji stopped, frowning at empty space. "I – need a break first."
Naoto intended to suggest he walk the short distance home, but he'd already sat down on the steps outside the old model shop. The fine layer of snow covering them dissuaded her from joining him. So did the sudden heat prickling at her eyes.
It made no sense. The night had ended, if not on a positive note, on a tolerable one. Yet Kanji looked no better; his eyes were dark, his jaw continually working. Was it because of Nanako-chan? Namatame? Emotions followed no logic. Naoto, who had never learned to correctly identify her own, knew better than to attempt to interpret Kanji's.
This knowledge didn't stop her. "I apologize," she told him.
He lifted his head. "What for?"
"Suggesting we throw Namatame in the television. Rise-chan was correct." She forced herself to hold his gaze. "You're better than that."
Kanji let out a breath. "No, I'm not. I wanted t'do it, y'know? Couldn't stop thinking about what he did to Nanako-chan."
"You – you're - -" She closed her eyes, took a breath, opened them. "I...don't always see things the way I should. I dragged you into that. You have no reason to feel guilty."
"Don't, really." He shrugged. "Got other stuff to think about."
...She'd misinterpreted. Unsurprisingly. But if guilt wasn't troubling him... "Such as?"
"Stupid shit. How much I hate hospitals." He rubbed a hand over his face, the movement stiff and jerky. "How we – we were rushin' so hard to get there, and I just kept thinkin' it was gonna be like before, with my dad. Th-That I wouldn't get there in time. An' then we did, and she – she still - -"
"No, she didn't. Not truly."
"But if she had, when she kinda did - at least people were there for her." His face was tense, his lips set in a tight, trembling line. "I-I wanted to be there too, but there wasn't enough space in her room and the senpai knew her way longer."
This was not a conversation Naoto wanted to have. Kanji's voice was raspy and wrong but his eyes were worse - and her own still hadn't stopped stinging.
Nanako. It was because of her. But why now, when she was alive? Why feel grief over a outcome that hadn't occurred?
A delayed reaction, presumably, and one Naoto would not indulge. She sat down on the steps next to Kanji and huddled into her coat. It seemed he was distressed for the same reason, among others – but she'd been wrong once already and didn't dare a second attempt.
They sat in silence, light snow still falling. Naoto began to feel faintly ridiculous. If Kanji chose to freeze to death on a doorstep two minute's walk from his own, she was not required to join him and would be a fool if she did – and yet leaving him here was impossible. She watched his face in profile, the line of his mouth and his creased brow – though she hadn't realized she was doing so until he turned toward her.
"You – I-I know this is a bad question, but - your parents. Were you there?"
"No."
Kanji nodded once, his jaw tight. "Then maybe you know how- -shit, maybe y'don't. I dunno."
Her parents had died instantly. Or so she hoped. Either way, had Naoto been there she would have most likely joined them. Hearing that, however, would offer Kanji no comfort.
"I doubt it would have made a difference in my case," she said, instead. "But I – I can appreciate your situation."
…It sounded pathetic. It was also the best she could offer. Less than human. She'd been more accurate than she'd thought - and Kanji deserved better.
He shrugged, stiff and awkward. "Eh, 'least my Ma was still here to look after me. Getting shipped around your relatives is worse."
"It isn't a contest, Kanji."
"Yeah, I know."
Even if it were, in some ways Naoto suspected she might be more fortunate. She'd barely known her parents and her memories of them were riddled with holes - but would it really have been any better had they died five years later? Kanji had lost a father he'd had time to love, one he had reason to grieve for.
She bit her lip, her fingers tensing over her knees. "Do you miss him?"
Kanji glanced at her, then away. "Yeah. Wish I knew what he'd think of everything I've done this year, whether he'd be proud of me."
"I think he would."
Naoto hadn't quite planned on saying that, and Kanji's lack of response was alarming. She stayed silent, torn between wanting him to speak and hoping he'd completely ignored her, until he let out a loud sigh and climbed to his feet. "C'mon, we gotta get to your apartment."
"But you're almost home," she said.
"So? Ain't gonna make you walk back by yourself in snow and fog."
"It isn't snowing hard, and I am perfectly– " Naoto began - but he'd already started walking, why had he started walking? "Kanji-kun, we are practically outside your mother's shop, it makes absolutely no sense for you to walk across town twice!"
"Y-Yeah, well, whoever said I made sense?" It was an absurd retort, yet Kanji seemed unfazed. He stopped several strides away and glanced over his shoulder. "You comin' or what?"
There was clearly no point arguing. And given his earlier distress, it would be better to do as he wished. Naoto could find other reasons too, more than she needed – and realized, for a deeply uncomfortable moment, that she'd become very good at justifying spending time around Kanji Tatsumi.
"If you insist," she muttered – though Kanji probably couldn't hear – then tugged down her cap and followed him.