Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was just the two of them at lunch today, and without the presence of their lively friends, the roof was quieter than usual. Naoto was perched on one of the large vents finishing off her rice, and Kanji sat a few feet away, laying on his back with a box of animal crackers balanced on his chest. The sky was clear and blue, though clouds were gathering in the distance, and Kanji was enjoying the peace enough that he wasn’t even stressed out about being in such close proximity to Naoto.

“Kanji-kun, where did you get your ears pierced?” she asked suddenly, setting aside her bento.

“Huh?” Kanji, digging around in his box absent-mindedly, sat up on his elbow to look at her and took a moment to process what she’d said. “Oh, these?” He fingered the metal decorations on his ears and laughed a little. “Actually, I, uh, did ‘em all myself. Ma threw a fit ‘cuz I got blood all over the place. Turned out all right though, and it didn’t…well, okay, the first one hurt like hell, but then I realized you gotta numb it first, and it went okay after that. What, you thinkin’ about gettin’ yours done?”

“I’ve been considering it recently,” Naoto confirmed with a nod.

“Didn’t think you cared much for jewelry and stuff,” Kanji commented, punctuating the statement with a crunch as he bit into a tiger.

“Not particularly,” Naoto agreed, “but I own a pair of earrings that I would like to wear now that I’m out as a girl anyway.”

“Hmm,” Kanji said thoughtfully. “You’re just full’a surprises.”

Naoto looked vaguely amused as she wiped her hands and moved to throw away the trash from her lunch. Instead of returning to her seat, she leaned against the chain-link fence separating the roof from the rest of the world, staring over her shoulder in the direction of the train station. Kanji paused, penguin halfway to his mouth, before giving up and putting it back in the box. Maybe it was how she was standing, maybe it was the look on her face, or maybe it was the way the wind picked up and sent a chill down his spine, but something told him this was no time for animal crackers. Turning her attention back to Kanji, Naoto silently considered him for a moment before speaking.

“This weekend is the anniversary of my parents’…” She trailed off, twisting so that her back was to him, fingers gripping the metal loops of the fence. “I’m going to go visit them,” she finally offered. Kanji nodded, understanding.

“Yeah. S’been a while since I went to see my dad. Prob’ly oughta, soon.” He shifted his weight, debating with himself before adding, “If you, uh, need anything…like, you wanna talk…I been there, y’know?”

Naoto glanced back at Kanji, seeming to struggle with something. “Actually, would you…Grandpa’s getting on in years, and I – I don’t want to go alone.” She looked away, up at the far-off storm.

“’Course,” Kanji answered immediately. “Just say when, and I’ll be there.”

“I’m leaving Saturday after school for the estate, and returning on Sunday.”

Kanji opened his mouth wordlessly. He felt like he had missed something extremely important. “You’re – what?”

Naoto turned around, blinked, then shook her head. “Ah. Sorry, I should have explained. I was planning on heading home to visit my grandfather on Saturday since the Shirogane estate is on my way. I haven’t seen him in over a year, and a round trip would be too much for one day’s travel. I’m sorry,” she repeated, frowning. “If you had other plans, or it’s inconvenient, you don’t have to come. It’s fine.”

“Uh, no, I just…I mean, that wouldn’t be weird? Me, stayin’ at your granddad’s place?” Kanji felt stupid. Of course Naoto’s family’s grave wouldn’t be in Inaba.

“It isn’t as if there’s no room for you there.” Was that a trace of bitterness in her voice? “I just thought…like you said, you’ve been through this too, and I…” Light pink dusted Naoto’s face and she tugged at her sleeve. “Well, I’ve…grown accustomed to having my friends around for support. But I could ask someone else. Or maybe dragging anyone along on such a depressing errand was a bad idea. I can go alone. I’ll manage, I always do.”

Kanji crossed his arms at that, mind made up. “Nuh-uh. I’m goin’ with ya. I mean, if you really want me around. This stuff sucks alone.”

Naoto still seemed unsure, but before she could change her mind, the bell signaling the end of lunch rang. She lingered at the stairs as Kanji grabbed his box of crackers. “We’ll only be gone one night, and it’s likely to be cold and rainy, so pack accordingly. I’m taking the five o’clock train after school on Saturday. It’s about an hour and a half to the estate, then another hour to the cemetery. We should be home by Sunday evening.”

“All right.” Kanji stood up and joined her at the door. “Sounds like a plan.”

Naoto looked up at him cautiously. “And you’re sure…?”

“Sure I’m sure,” Kanji said firmly. “Can’t back out now. Now c’mon, I can be late since no one cares, but you prob’ly got your attendance or whatever to worry about.” He started down the stairwell, and after a few moments heard footsteps echoing his back to their classroom.

Kanji spent the rest of the week packing and unpacking his backpack – he probably didn’t need so much yarn, or a sewing kit, but at the last minute it all ended up coming with him anyway – and giving evasive excuses for not being available over the upcoming weekend. He didn’t have anything to hide, and the reason for the trip would be enough to wipe a teasing smirk off of anyone’s face, but Kanji found himself not wanting to get into it. He almost felt like it would be an invasion of Naoto’s privacy, that she was sharing something with him that it wasn’t his place to drag out into the open. So when Saturday came and the final bell rang, he simply waved good-bye to his friends until Monday and headed home for his backpack.

“All right. Clothes? Check. Animal crackers? Check. Knitting supplies? Check.” Kanji nodded in satisfaction. “Guess I’m good to go.”

He spent the next hour wondering how early he could show up at the train station without it seeming weird, and finally ran out the door around four thirty. Making the fifteen minute walk in seven, Kanji paused near the soda machine to catch his breath. He scanned the platform for Naoto, only to conclude with a sigh that he was too early after all. Figuring he might as well grab a drink while he waited, he fished around for a hundred-yen coin to stick in the machine.

“Hello, Kanji-kun.” The voice startled Kanji, causing him to fumble and drop his wallet, sending coins rolling down the street. He turned around to see Naoto watching them go, eyes wide in distress. “Oh, no – I’m sorry,” she said, moving to retrieve the fallen money.

“S’nothin’, just a few hundred yen,” Kanji assured her, quickly scooping up what he could. When they straightened up, he stuffed all the coins but two in his pocket. “Uh. You – you want somethin’?”

Naoto shook her head. “I don’t drink soda, but thank you.” Her eyes slid past him to the clock over the station entrance. “I’m going to go buy my ticket. If you haven’t already, you should too.”

“Yeah. In a minute.” When Naoto was out of range, Kanji leaned his head against the soda machine and groaned. “Off to a great start,” he muttered, inserting his money and jabbing the TaP button. The drink clattered into the dispenser, and Kanji popped the top as he followed Naoto over to the kiosk.

It was four fifty by the time they had their tickets. Naoto sat on the bench with her bag at her feet, staring off at who-knows-what, apparently oblivious to Kanji self-consciously passing his drink between his hands, occasionally getting halfway to sitting down next to her, thinking better of it, and standing back up. Thankfully, the train rolled into the station promptly at five, and Kanji hurried on after Naoto, leaving their seat assignment up to her. She walked down a few aisles to where there were relatively few other people sitting nearby and claimed a window seat. Leaning against the glass, she pulled a book from her bag and flipped to the beginning, crossing her legs and trying to get comfortable.

“Whatcha readin’?” Kanji asked, sitting down across from her and setting his backpack on the seat next to him. Naoto glanced at him over the top of her book.

“Inspector Imanishi,” she replied.

“Huh. Never heard of ‘im.”

Naoto made a vague noise of acknowledgement, attention already turned back to her reading. Kanji got the feeling any further attempts at conversation would earn him the same result, so he sighed and reached into his bag for knitting needles and a skein of yarn. He wasn’t exactly expecting Naoto to talk his ear off, but she was the one who invited him along, so Kanji thought his company might have ranked at least a little higher than a book. He wanted to be there for her, but part of him wondered what he was even doing here.

It was true that since the start of the school year, he and Naoto had been spending more time together. Kanji liked to think it was because she actually enjoyed being with him and not just by default; their senpai were seniors now, and with Rise getting back into show-biz, the two of them found themselves alone more and more often. They’d slipped into a rhythm of walking home together, and Kanji had worked up the courage to ask Naoto to help him study when he needed it. He’d seen her grow more comfortable since she’d first joined the Team last year, and she even willingly engaged him in conversation and sought him out during lunch – but then there were moments like these, when he had no idea what was going on in that mind of hers, especially in regards to him.

“Kanji-kun?”

Lost in thought, Kanji barely registered Naoto was talking to him. “Yeah?”

“What are you making?”

Kanji blinked. Naoto was watching him with a mixture of interest and confusion, and her words reminded Kanji that he was still knitting. Furrowing his brow, he stared at the yarn in his lap. A dark blue rectangle a few inches wide trailed out onto the floor at least a yard. How long had he been on auto-pilot? A glance out the window told him they had long since left Inaba. “Uh. A scarf, I guess?”

Naoto raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”

“Well, not much else I could do with it now,” Kanji mused, holding the length of yarn up. “Yeah, scarf it is.”

Naoto looked at the scarf for another moment, then up at Kanji, and said, “That’s quite impressive.”

“What, that I completely spaced out like that?”

Naoto smiled wryly. “I was referring to your ability to knit so well even without paying attention. You’re very skilled.”

“Who, me?” Kanji shrugged. “Anyone can do this. I could show ya sometime.”

Naoto nodded a little, looking thoughtful. “Maybe. Though I doubt I’d fare well at handicrafts.”

“Nah, I mean, ya got nice hands.” Naoto blinked, and Kanji flushed, realizing what he had said. “No, I meant – they’re small, and – and you’re probably real good at, like – all sorts of –” Naoto stared at him in confusion as he floundered. “Y-y’know what, forget it. Forget I said anything.” Kanji ran his fingers through his hair and looked out the window at the clouds gathering in the distance, and when he glanced back Naoto was engrossed in her book once again. With her sitting right there, all he could do was close his eyes and slowly let out his breath in frustration.

Nice hands. Small, real good at all sorts of things. Smooth. Idiot.

At least when they weren’t talking, he couldn’t embarrass himself too terribly. Kanji consoled himself with that thought as they passed the remaining hour of the trip in silence. Finally, when they rolled to a stop in a relatively quiet station, Naoto slipped a bookmark between the pages of her book and stood up. Kanji packed up his knitting and followed suit with a stretch, shouldering his backpack and following Naoto down the aisle and off the train.

They had arrived in a rural town near a small mountain, a little livelier than Inaba, the only contrast to the stereotypical country image a sleek black car sitting near the entrance to the station. Much to Kanji’s surprise, when they left the platform Naoto began to stride confidently toward the car. As she approached, a man in a crisp suit and dark sunglasses stepped out of the driver’s seat and bowed. “Good evening, Naoto-sama.”

“Yakushiji-san,” Naoto greeted him, “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, as well.” Yakushiji inclined his head at Kanji. “Is this young man is the travelling companion you mentioned?”

“Yes. Yakushiji-san, this is Kanji Tatsumi, my friend from school,” Naoto introduced him, and Kanji nodded, feeling stupidly happy to have Naoto refer to him as a friend. “Kanji-kun, Yakushiji-san has been in the service of the Shirogane family since long before I was born.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Yakushiji gestured to the car. “Now, Naoto-sama, shall we get going? Your grandfather is eager to see you.”

“Yes, let’s,” Naoto agreed, and Yakushiji grabbed her bag and loaded it into the trunk of the car. Kanji allowed him to take his backpack as well, and when they were packed and ready, Naoto up front and Kanji in the back trying not to touch anything, Yakushiji started the car and pulled out of the station parking lot. He and Naoto passed the drive talking about the estate’s state of affairs in the last year, while Kanji stared out the window at the town wondering where it could be hiding anything resembling an estate. As it turned out, it wasn’t. Yakushiji turned onto a dirt road on the outskirts of town that led up the mountain, and after a fifteen-minute trek through the woods, the terrain leveled out and the trees began to thin until the Shirogane Estate finally came into view.

As they made their way slowly down the driveway, Kanji couldn’t help but gape. He’d never seen such a big Western-style house. It had to be three stories tall, and the property stretched out for acres – plural acres, right here in Japan. The driveway curved away from the main house slightly to a separate garage, and Kanji leaned back into his seat as they pulled in, shaking his head. I am so out of my league here. He heard someone clear their throat, and realized Yakushiji was holding the car door open for him, backpack in his free hand.

“Sorry, thanks,” Kanji muttered, quickly retrieving his bag and climbing out of the car. Naoto had already gone ahead of him, and he followed her out of the garage and along a pathway to where a dignified old gentleman in a navy blue suit stood on the estate’s front porch.

“Grandpa,” Naoto called, breaking out into a run, and dropping her bag on the ground. Kanji stood back at a polite distance as she embraced the man.

“Oh, my little Naoto, I can’t believe it’s been a year already. I’ve missed you so.” Her grandfather stepped back, taking Naoto by the shoulders and looking her up and down with a smile. “You’ve grown.”

“Do you think so?” Naoto’s eyes shone, and a smile tugged at her own lips.

“Of course – though you’ll always be my little Naoto to me. Ah, and who’s this?” Kanji realized the old man was looking at him now and stood up straight. “You mentioned you were inviting a friend along. Is he the young man who helped you solve my ‘case?’”

“No, this is Kanji Tatsumi, another friend of mine. We worked together on the serial murder case in Inaba.” It was impressive, in a weird kind of way, how casually she threw around phrases like ‘serial murder,’ Kanji thought.

“Hm, is that so?” The old man raised his eyebrows over his glasses and looked at Kanji searchingly. “Well, on my granddaughter’s behalf, thank you for everything.” He smiled at Kanji and inclined his head.

“Oh, uh, n-not at all,” Kanji stammered, bowing deeply in return. “Nice to meet you, Shirogane-san. Thank you for havin’ me.”

“Likewise, Tatsumi-san. It’s my pleasure,” Naoto’s grandfather replied. “Yakushiji will show you to your room, and dinner will be ready in a little while.”

Yakushiji, who had been waiting a few feet away, gave Kanji a little bow and picked up his bag. “You’ll be staying in one of the guest rooms. If you would follow me, I’ll show you the way.”

“Uh, thanks.” Yakushiji led him up the porch, and as he opened the doors for them to enter the house, Kanji let out a low whistle. The front hall – what did they call it in a place like this, a foyer? – was at least twice as big as Kanji’s living room, and the kind of giant spiral staircase you only saw in the movies led up to the second story. The furniture looked old as dirt, and yet somehow sparkling new at the same time. “Nice place ya got here,” Kanji remarked, trying to take it all in.

“I’m glad you like it,” Naoto’s grandfather chuckled, and Kanji felt a twinge of embarrassment. He probably sounded so low-class. The old man had a pleasant smile, though, and seemed more amused than anything else. Kind of reminded him of his ma. “Naoto, your room is just as you left it. I trust you remember how to get there?”

“Yes, Grandpa. Thank you.” Naoto walked slowly up the stairs ahead of Kanji and Yakushiji, hand on the railing as she looked back and forth. Kanji wondered what it was like growing up in a huge house like this, and what kind of memories were going through her head as they made their way down a long hallway lined with identical-looking wooden doors. Some time after he stopped counting them, Naoto came to a stop in front of one and put her hand on the knob.

“This is my room. Kanji-kun, once you’ve gotten settled in, I can show you around the house if you’d like.”

“Sure, that’d be cool.”

“I’ll be ready in a minute. Well, then…” Naoto hesitated, then opened her door and ducked in so quickly Kanji almost didn’t see the large Featherman poster tacked to the wall.
“Tatsumi-san, your room is just a little further.”

“Right, yeah, let’s go.” Kanji shook his head, trying to clear it of the image of Naoto as the Blue Ranger. Yakushiji led him a short distance down the hall to the guest room and set his bag down next to the bed.

“Will you be able to find your way back from here?”

Kanji nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Very good.” Yakushiji bowed once more and left Kanji alone in the bedroom. It was was sparsely but expensively decorated, and, just like the rest of the house, Western-style, with a four-post bed against one wall.

“Fancy,” Kanji noted out loud. There wasn’t much for him to do in the way of unpacking, so he left his backpack where it was and went back out into the hall. He retraced his path back to where he thought Naoto’s room was and knocked.

“Naoto?” No answer. Maybe he had the wrong one? He rapped on the door again, and when he didn’t hear anything, tried the knob. Unlocked. It wouldn’t hurt just to peek in and check, right? But what if she was in there changing or something and just didn’t hear him? Kanji turned a brilliant scarlet at the thought. He stood there debating with himself for a good thirty seconds before the door suddenly opened and he toppled face-first into the room.

“Kanji-kun?” Naoto’s surprised voice came from somewhere above him. She was holding the door open, staring at him with one eyebrow arched. “Ah, what exactly are you doing?”

Kanji jumped to his feet, brushing off his jacket. “Uh – heh, um, just came to see if you were…” He trailed off, face still red, and looked around. He would have expected Naoto’s room to be a no-nonsense place, with maybe a bookshelf and desk – he pictured a typewriter on it – and not much else in the way of décor. He was only half right. The desk held a laptop and there were three bookshelves, actually. Two were filled with books that looked extremely boring, and a smaller one in the corner housed a few DVDs and – was that manga? There was the Featherman poster he’d seen earlier, and a few others around the room had shiny cars and landmarks from faraway countries on them. A single pillow and a neatly-tucked in comforter laid on the bed, and on a shelf above the headboard sat an action figure and a framed picture of a happy-looking man and woman standing on either side of a smiling young girl.

Before Kanji could say anything else, Naoto silently shoved him out of the room and closed the door. She tugged her hat down and looked up at Kanji, crossing her arms and frowning. “So. You’re ready to see the house?”

“Uh, yeah, gimme the tour,” he said a little too enthusiastically, trying to relieve the awkwardness. Naoto nodded and headed back to the staircase, pausing at the landing.

“In all honesty, there’s probably not much that would interest you,” she mused. “Plenty of empty rooms, an attic full of junk…oh, I’d like to stop by the library, if you don’t mind.”

Kanji shrugged. “Sounds good.” Thinking of the school’s library, he groaned inwardly, but wasn’t about to complain. He made a point of shortening his strides to stay not-quite-behind-but-not-quite-next-to Naoto as she led him downstairs and through another, shorter, hallway to a large set of double doors. With a soft grunt and a little effort, she shoved them open, revealing with a loud creak a library that would put their school to shame. Naoto paused at the threshold, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

“It smells wonderful, doesn’t it,” she murmured. Kanji, currently holding back a sneeze brought on by the musty aroma, was glad she didn’t seem to expect an answer. Rubbing his nose, he followed her past enough shelves of books to impress even someone who stayed away from them as a general rule. In a back corner of the room stood an old-fashioned lamp next to a large, comfortable-looking armchair, and when they reached it Naoto slowly sank into it, running her hands over the cracked leather arms.

“This is where they used to read to me,” she said quietly after a few moments. “Detective novels, historical fiction and non-fiction, even old case files. I was never one for fairy tales.” Her fingers curled into fists. “Happy endings, tied with a neat little bow. Life isn’t like that.” Naoto sprang to her feet abruptly, shaking her head. “Anyway. Never mind. Let’s move on.”

Kanji nodded, watching her fingers trail down the armrest as she slowly moved away from the chair. “Where to?”

Glancing out the window, a glimmer of excitement lit up Naoto’s eyes. “Outside.” This time, she was the one working to keep her pace slow and steady as she retraced the path to the front door and circled around to the back of the house. Apparently unable to contain herself any longer, she broke out into a run at the porch, crossing the yard to where a towering oak tree stood. Kanji raced after her as she laid a hand on it for balance and stepped out of her shoes.

“I don’t need the stepladder anymore,” she muttered, and, much to Kanji’s shock, grabbed a branch near her head and pulled herself up to stand on it. Naoto grinned down at him – actually grinned! – and leaned against the trunk. “I pride myself on my tree-climbing skills,” she boasted. “Race you up!” And with that, she was off.
“What the –” Kanji was dumbstruck, trying to make the connection between this Naoto and the tiny grown-up who lectured him on proper posture on a weekly basis. He managed to shake it off for the time being and, with much effort, heaved his body up onto the first branch. Kanji had never been one for climbing trees, and had to have a good 50 pounds more than Naoto to haul around, but he forced himself to keep going, cursing under his breath as he felt his leather jacket scuff. Naoto, on the other hand, seemed to be having fun.
Watching Naoto as she climbed was both fascinating and nerve-wracking. From her confident movements, Kanji guessed she had done this numerous times before, but he still winced every time she balanced on a spindly branch or made a leap of faith he felt was completely unnecessary. Finally, she reached a treehouse bolted into strong-looking branches and climbed into it with ease. Kanji pulled himself up after her and collapsed, worn out.

“You’re…somethin’ else, y’know that?” he panted, looking around. The fort was about six feet in any given direction, and a single decrepit lawn chair sat next to a table in the corner by a window. Underneath the table was a box full of miscellaneous tools and toys with Naoto’s name painted on it in big letters.

“This was my secret base when I was younger,” Naoto said, gazing fondly at the treehouse. Kanji had only ever seen such an unguarded, child-like expression on that face when her Shadow had calmed down and smiled. “I would play spy or detective, or bring books up to read. I think I camped out here once or twice. I never had any friends to join me, but…”

“Until now,” Kanji pointed out, and Naoto looked at him in mild surprise.

“Until now,” she repeated, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her. She began to remove items from the box and lay them out on the floor around her. A screwdriver with a magnifying glass on the other end, a backlit watch that flickered feebly when she pressed a button on the side, a dinged-up toy detective badge. She smiled a little, her eyes distant. Kanji picked up the screwdriver, turning it over in his hands.

“Y’know,” he started hesitantly, “you seem…different since we got here. In a good way. N-not that you’re usually – I mean…” Kanji nervously tapped the magnifying end of the screwdriver in his open palm. If Naoto took offense at his words, she didn’t show it, only pausing in her rummaging to look thoughtful.

“Well, despite the nature of my visit, it is good to be home. It’s been quite a while since I felt…” She pursed her lips. “Since I felt like I could let go of certain pretenses.”
“That’s good,” Kanji said encouragingly. “S’good to let your hair down once in a while.”

“Yes.” Naoto stared at a broken matchbox car, idly trying to fit its fourth wheel back on as silence stretched out between them. Casting around for something to say, Kanji grabbed something that looked like a pocket knife from the small pile of trinkets and held it up.

“So, what’s this one do?”

The corner of Naoto’s mouth twitched and she took the knife from his hands, pointing it at the wall and flipping a switch that caused the blade to fly out and stick in the wood. Now that Kanji looked, there were several marks around it that were probably caused in the same way. He let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

Naoto chuckled. “Between my penchant for tinkering with dangerous objects and how many times I fell out of this tree, it’s a wonder I’ve lasted so long.”

“You’re one tough cookie,” Kanji agreed. He continued questioning the inventions, and Naoto began to positively glow with pride as she explained each one. Spurred on by Kanji’s interest, she recounted tales of cases she’d solved before coming to Inaba, and he couldn’t help but grin as Naoto animatedly talked about death and Japan’s legal system. Her excitement died down a little as she got to her decision to disguise her gender.

“I was surrounded by middle-aged men in my line of work, and female protagonists in detective novels are few and far between. I assumed that was the key to gaining respect, and though I noticed a slight difference in attitude, I was still looked down on for my age.

“Yeah, well, people’ll look for any reason to tear ya down,” Kanji said bitterly.

“They will,” Naoto agreed, “but…you and the others accepted me without a second thought. And it may have taken unfortunate circumstances, but even Dojima-san began to take me seriously, which helped influence the rest of the force. I made my choice back then, after facing my Shadow. I won’t hide any longer. It may be hard, but I’ll earn respect as who I am, and show the world a woman can be as good a detective as any man.”

Kanji flashed her a thumbs-up. “Someday they’ll be writin’ novels about you. An’ they’ll be so awesome, even I’ll read ‘em.”

Naoto smiled, eyes warm, and Kanji couldn’t help blushing a little. “Thank you, Kanji-kun.” She stood up – much more comfortably than he was able to – and pried the blade of her knife from the wood. Carefully fitting it back in the handle, she leaned against the wall and glanced at Kanji. “Um. For –”

“Naoto-chan, are you in there? Does this thing still work?”

They both started, Naoto narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the roof. Kanji looked around for the source of the tinny voice, and Naoto gave a laugh under her breath. “Amazingly, yes,” she said to no one in particular, crossing over to the other side of the treehouse where a radio was affixed to the wall. She leaned in close and pressed a button on it. “We’re here, Grandpa.”

“Ah, excellent. I just wanted to let you know that dinner is ready when you are.”

Naoto nodded. “All right. Thank you. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“I’ll see you inside. Over and out.” Kanji recognized the wink in his voice. Naoto smiled fondly and lifted her finger from the button.

“I installed this with a little help from Yakushiji-san so that Grandpa wouldn’t have to come all the way out here to check on me,” she explained. “I can’t believe it’s working after all this time. Well, shall we head down now?”

Loud enough to cover the growling of his stomach, Kanji said, “Yeah, let’s go.” He climbed down ahead of Naoto – on the one hand, he liked to think he would catch her if she fell, but on the other, he knew if anyone was going to fall it would be him, so he didn’t want to crash into her on his way down – and waited for her on the lowest branch, clutching onto one just above his head for dear life. Naoto paused when she reached him.

“Is something the matter?”

Seein’ you happy makes me happy too, I want you to smile more often, an’ I dunno how to tell you that without soundin’ weird. I wanna kiss you, but I know you don’t wanna kiss me. An’ I gotta be the most insensitive guy in the world, thinkin’ about this now of all times, but it’s all I ever think about anyway, an’ I sure as hell can’t say that without soundin’ weird. Kanji scoffed. “Nah, it’s nothin’.” She was staring at him with those eyes of hers, and he had to look away. “Let’s just get inside before the food gets cold.”

Chapter Text

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodness, it’s gotten late,” her grandfather yawned, slowly getting to his feet. “You two have an early start tomorrow, hm? Perhaps you should turn in as well.”
“We will, Grandpa,” Naoto promised. “Good night.” She turned pink but smiled ever so slightly as he kissed her softly on the top of her head.

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

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

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

Kanji grinned. “Nice. Just promise not to ride around an’ keep people up all night, alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I – I’m going to try to get some rest, so. Good night.”

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

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

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

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

And I don’t have to be alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

“But nothin’. Your mom an’ dad would be proud a’ you,” Kanji insisted.

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

“You’re doin’ your best. Can’t ask for anything more’n that.”

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

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

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

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

“Don’ mention it,” he muttered, nudging her with with shoulder. “What’re friends for?”

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

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

“I’m sorry,” Naoto mumbled. “I didn’t intend for you to go out of your way to –”

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

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

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

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

…and?

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

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

She had fallen for Kanji.

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

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

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

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

Chapter Text

When Kanji finally returned to his room, his first instinct was to knit away his adrenaline. His kit was still downstairs, so he settled on pacing instead, heart still pounding. His tiredness had vanished the moment he heard Naoto cry out, and there had been a roaring in his ears since he saw her there, white as a sheet save for the blood on her ear.

Seriously though, what was she thinking? he asked himself for the hundredth time. She could have hurt herself worse than she did, or gotten her ear infected, or who knows what else – and this was Naoto he was talking about. She would have known all that. There was no way she’d do something so stupid just for giggles.

Kanji knew there was something hurting her worse than a safety pin that had caused this. But he couldn’t punch out pain, couldn’t scare away fear. It frustrated him to no end that he felt so powerless. Just thinking of Naoto in tears on the bathroom floor caused an icy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He hoped something he said had resonated with her, but he barely felt qualified to hold a regular conversation, much less give advice. He probably just made things even worse. Probably said all the wrong things.

Of course, he knew how it felt to worry what your parents would think of you. It had taken Kanji years to figure out what his dad meant by ‘being a man.’ He wondered whether he and Naoto had more in common than one might think by looking at them – of course, that didn’t change how utterly useless he was. He still didn’t know what was at the root of Naoto’s pain or what he could do for her. The only kind of talking he was good at was talking with his fists. In fact, he thought with a jolt; cool, level-headed Naoto probably would never have thought to pierce her own ears if he hadn’t mentioned it.

Kanji had all but forgotten about that part of last week’s conversation. What if it was his fault for putting the idea in her head? Was he supposed to have known she was going to stab herself in the ear? Could he have headed her off at the pass? Clutching his head, he fell back onto the bed with a groan.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” he berated himself out loud. He knew that, in reality, her situation had nothing to do with him, but he felt like he had let her down completely. Some moral support he was turning out to be.

The rest of the night passed much the same way, Kanji running through everything that had gone down over and over between short hours of fitful sleep. It felt both entirely too long and entirely too short, but regardless, Naoto rapped on his door at nine a.m. sharp. She was fully dressed and, judging by the dark circles under her eyes, hadn’t slept much more than him.

“Mornin’,” he greeted her, doing his best to sound enthusiastic.

“Good morning.” She was making much less effort, voice low and flat. “Breakfast is waiting downstairs. I’d like to leave as soon as we’re done.”

He hesitated, on the brink of ordering her to go back to bed until she was fully rested, but knew that would only make her more upset, if anything. “Yeah, sure. See ya in a few.”

Naoto nodded, heading downstairs in silence. Quickly changing, Kanji stuffed what little he’d brought with him into his backpack and followed. Breakfast was a somewhat awkward affair, Naoto’s grandfather making a few attempts at small talk that were met largely with monosyllabic answers. Likely attributing their somber mood to today’s task, he watched Naoto carefully, but if he noticed the way she kept touching her ear and wincing, didn’t comment on it.

After the elder Shirogane bid them farewell – and made Naoto promise not to wait so long before visiting again – the trip from the estate to the cemetery was ever more quiet. Naoto explained as she purchased her ticket that their family’s grave was located a fair distance away, in a town where her ancestors had lived generations ago. After this she fell silent, sitting across from Kanji and pulling her cap down in front of her eyes. Her breathing was deep and even, hands folded in her lap, but her stance was rigid. He wanted to suggest she take the opportunity to get some sleep while she could but, again, thought better of it.

With a sigh, Kanji leaned back in his own seat, trying to get comfortable without disturbing Naoto. Not for the first time in his life, he cursed his long legs and the train’s cramped accommodations. He settled for leaning against the window, chilly from the cool winds picking up outside, and stretching as much as he could without spilling into the aisle. Dimly, he registered that they were finally heading into the storm as his eyes drooped closed, only to be shaken awake what felt like moments later.

“Kanji-kun.” Blinking a few times, Kanji pried his eyes open. Naoto’s hand was on his arm, and she glanced out the window as the train began to slow. “This is our stop.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled in response. Staggering to his feet, he reached up to grab his backpack as Naoto stood on tiptoe to retrieve hers. It had slid farther back in the overhead compartment during the trip, and he pretended not to see that she had to jump a little to reach it.

The walk through town to the cemetery located on its outskirts was long enough to make up for the cramped train ride, Kanji gratefully stretching his legs with every step. It was a quiet place, smaller than either Inaba or the town near the Shirogane estate. Were they here on happier business, he would have wanted to browse the local shops for unique fabrics and dyes. Instead, they pushed ahead, past storefronts closing their doors against the coming rain.

Splitting off from the narrow road, Naoto led the way down a path marked only by years of footsteps, which in turn gave way to a stone pathway, taking them just far enough from town to lend a sense of isolation. A moss-covered gate that radiated age stood guard at a small pavilion from which Naoto collected a bucket and ladle. As she filled it from a dripping spigot, Kanji gazed beyond the entrance at the modest cemetery before them.

Relatively small in size, Kanji estimated only a few dozen family tombstones of varying sizes dotting the landscape and wondered how far back the residents could trace their history in this town. Just as he was contemplating asking Naoto when her ancestors had moved away, his attention was captured by the faucet squeaking off. Naoto motioned for him to follow her, moving slowly and carefully so as not to spill a drop from her bucket.

Kanji pulled his jacket tightly around himself to block out the chill as they trudged past tombstones in silence. Naoto came to a stop in front of a large one with the names of generations worth of Shiroganes engraved on it. Despite the cold, she took off her coat, folding it up carefully before setting it on the ground, rolling up her sleeves, and kneeling in front of the tombstone with the bucket and ladle. Kanji stood back a few respectful feet to allow her space.

Slowly, methodically, she began clearing away weeds and dead flowers – who-knows-how-many years of neglect – from the grave. As she attacked a layer of caked-on mud near the base, faded red marks were revealed underneath. Peering closer, Kanji could make out Naoto’s own name scrawled with crayon in childish handwriting. She scoffed. “It still hasn’t come off. Yakushiji-san gave me quite the scolding for defacing family property.” She ran a hand over the writing before returning to her work without further comment. A short while later, she let out a sigh and rinsed her hands off with the water left in the bucket, satisfied with the state of the grave.

Sitting forward slightly on her heels, Naoto hesitated for a moment before pulling her hat off her head. She held it tightly in one hand as she rummaged through her backpack with the other. Having never pegged her as the type to adhere to any rituals or traditions of this nature, Kanji felt as if he was intruding on one of Naoto’s most private moments as she carefully unwrapped a single purple hyacinth and laid it at the base of the grave. Head bowed, she stayed silent, hands shaking slightly in her lap.

“Kanji-kun.” When she spoke again, it was so soft Kanji almost didn’t hear at first. “What do you know about my family?”

“Uh.” A pop quiz wasn’t exactly what Kanji was expecting. “W-well, they’re – you’re detectives. You’re, what, the fifth generation, right? Of – of detectives?”

“Had you heard of us before you met me?” Naoto prompted, standing up.

Kanji scratched his head. “I mean, probably. Famous family like yours...yeah, mighta heard the name in the news or somethin’. Why d’ya ask?”

Naoto closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m being...” She sighed, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t remember any of this. As I’ve told you before, they – my parents – died in a car crash when I was young. It received a fair amount of news coverage.”

She paused, staring out at the roiling gray clouds that were becoming alarmingly less distant. A cool breeze picked up, carrying with it the scent of rain. “But do you know how they were remembered? ‘Famous Shirogane Detective and Wife.’ Hardly any mention of my mother’s accomplishments. At best, she ‘helped’ my father on their cases. All because of her sex.” Naoto’s hands, balled into fists, trembled. She didn’t seem to notice dropping her hat. “She was a brilliant detective, my father’s equal on every level. But he was the only one who recognized her genius. I couldn’t let that happen to me. I couldn’t do anything about my age, but so long as people thought I was a boy…a man…they would respect me. Or so I believed. Whatever criticism my mother faced, she never let being female stop her. She was amazing. Not like me. I’ll never be the man my father was, I’ll never be the woman my mother was, I’ll never be the woman society expects of me. I…” She looked up at Kanji desperately. “Whoever I am, it’s never good enough. I’m not…” she trailed off, her voice small and bitter.

That was it. Kanji took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and in one swift movement crossed the gap between them to bring Naoto into a tight embrace. She stiffened and gasped sharply, but he didn’t let go. “Y’ain’t your parents, either one of ‘em. You’re never gonna be, an’ that’s ok. You don’t need to try to be ‘this kinda guy’ or ‘that kinda girl,’ either. You’re Naoto. Just be Naoto. Naoto’s a genius, kicks some serious ass, and she’s pretty freakin’ cool. That’s who I –” Kanji missed a beat, voice faltering, and changed gears. “You’re fine the way you are, doin’ your own thing. Anyone don’t see that, they need to get their eyes checked. An’ I know your parents would say the same thing. Your mom would be proud a’you. They both would. You’re gonna be the best detective in the whole damn world someday, an’ everyone’ll know it.”

Naoto was still for the longest time, until slowly, silently, her hands slid around his torso, clutching his shirt for dear life. He held her close and felt her whole body shiver in his arms. A dull ache seized his chest. She seemed so tiny, so fragile, so un-Naoto-like; Kanji, with arms and hands that felt too big, worried he’d crush her. Gently running his fingers through her hair, he tucked her neatly under his chin, trying to provide shelter from everyone and everything that had ever hurt her.

They stood there like this until the first drops finally broke through the clouds. Kanji gave Naoto one last squeeze, an unspoken signal for them to break apart. She stepped back, disentangling her fingers from his shirt. Turning away to give her a moment to compose herself, he leaned down to retrieve her hat from where it had fallen. After carefully brushing the dirt off, he slipped it on her head, and she adjusted it to shield her eyes.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. A flash of lightning lit up the sky, casting a shadow over Naoto’s face under the brim of her hat as she turned to face the tombstone.

“I’m sorry. Please, just bear with me.” Anything else she might have said was drowned out by thunder.

Turning up her collar, Naoto glanced over her shoulder toward the entrance to the graveyard. “We should head back to the station before the storm gets any worse,” she said evenly. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, then immediately drew it away, looking down.

“Yeah,” Kanji agreed. Shouldering his backpack, he followed Naoto along the old path. As the rain began to pelt them harder, he remembered the umbrella he’d brought, and paused to pull it out. In the time it took for him to open it and catch up to Naoto to shield her, the sky had let loose in all its fury, completely drenching him. She turned to him and frowned.

“Kanji-kun, you don’t –”

“Jus’ take it. M’already soaked.” She was only slightly less soaked at this point. He used his free hand to brush back wet chunks of hair stuck to his face. “No point in bringin’ this if someone ain’t gonna use it.”

Naoto looked up at him a moment longer before accepting the umbrella. Instead of moving, however, she raised her arm until it was high enough for Kanji to fit under without crouching. He took her silent stare as an invitation.

“Th-there ain’t room under there for both of us,” he argued, thinking how dumb it was for him to be blushing at a time like this. “Get a move on or we’re gonna miss the train.”

When Naoto didn’t budge, Kanji sighed and ducked under the umbrella, shaking his head and taking the handle back. “Fine. Gonna get a cramp if ya stick your arm up in the air like that. C’mon, let’s go.”

It was awkward, for Kanji at least, trying to maneuver without letting Naoto get any wetter than she already was. They probably would have made it to the station faster if they hadn’t been walking slowly in tandem to stay dry, but Kanji found he didn’t mind. Under the awning, he withdrew the umbrella and gently shook it dry as Naoto remained close to him a moment longer than he knew what to make of. Before he had a chance to make anything of it, however, she was at the ticket machine, so he followed, fishing his wallet out of his backpack. They were just in time, climbing aboard their train home minutes before it left the station.

Kanji took the aisle seat again, and Naoto stood across from him – hesitated – glanced at the window seat, then at Kanji. He cocked his head toward it in what he hoped was an inviting gesture. Naoto pursed her lips and nodded before lighting down in the spot next to him. He flashed a quick smile at her that she awkwardly returned as she leaned forward to rummage around in her bag. Out came her book, and she moved around as if trying to settle in before giving up and huddling against the wall. As the train began to roll out of the station, Kanji busied himself with his knitting – last night’s penguin needed a friend; he was thinking maybe a lion – and let his mind wander.

Whatever Naoto believed about herself, she was anything but stagnant, at least in the time she’d been in Inaba. Kanji counted himself as lucky to have witnessed her growth since her arrival in the little town. The notion that she wasn’t good enough was, in his opinion, so wrong it would be laughable were it not tearing her apart. The individual aspects of her identity her critics focused on, they were her, but she was more than them; more than any number of adjectives could say. He was certain there was so much left inside her that she had yet to allow the world, or even herself, to acknowledge. Kanji felt a longing deeper than he had been prepared for to become acquainted with all of it, would that she were to allow him.

This train of thought brought him back to the present moment. Time and distance removing Naoto from her earlier emotional state, he had no idea what was running through her head now as she sat stoically beside him. He knew a handful of conversations over a weekend couldn’t heal over a decade’s worth of pain, but he hoped he had at least planted a seed. The smallest nudge in the right direction was a victory. Though he didn’t quite know how to communicate it, Kanji hoped she’d keep him close enough to continue nudging, perhaps even hold her hand along the way. Of course, he’d never find out any of this if they remained silent.

Shifting slightly, he glanced down at her. Though her book was open in her lap, Naoto had given up all pretense of trying to read. Kanji thought at first that she was asleep until he caught the reflection of her eyes in the glass, staring out the window at the rain. Completely in the dark as to where this conversation might lead, he drummed his fingers nervously on his armrest as he took the plunge.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The question was constantly on his mind, but it had never occurred to him before that he could ask – or rather, that Naoto would answer. As it was, she was quiet for so long he thought she wasn’t going to.

“My parents. Myself. You. The future,” she finally said, each word sounding carefully planned.

“That’s…a lot,” Kanji replied, feeling stupid the moment the words left his mouth. ‘That’s a lot.’ No kiddin’, moron. But…I’m in there with all that important stuff. S’gotta count for somethin’.

“Mhmm,” Naoto hummed in confirmation. “I sometimes wish I could turn it off.”

“Hey, I’m good at that,” Kanji offered, then frowned. “I mean – at not thinkin’ – I mean –” He groaned. “Shuttin’ up now.”

Naoto’s shoulders shook, and Kanji worried she was crying again until he heard soft laughter. She took off her hat and looked up at him with baggy red eyes, mouth curled in a genuine smile. “Don’t. In fact –” She laid a hand over Kanji’s and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. “Why don’t you teach me how to knit. You always look so…peaceful when you’re crafting. I’d like to capture that for myself.”

Kanji swallowed hard, then turned his hand over to intertwine his fingers with Naoto’s. “W-well, you know, you, uh…um, when – when you’re talkin’ about a case you solved, or showin’ off one a’your inventions, you get this, um…you look real happy. I like that. I like you – h-happy. I like you bein’ happy.”

Naoto closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, and Kanji swore his erratically pounding heart completely stopped until she let it out.

“I want to be happy. And I know I can’t be truly happy carrying on as I was. I believe…” She was running her thumb over his wrist absently, searching for the right words. “I want to believe you’re right. I’m not the man my father was, nor am I the woman my mother was. I am simply myself, and…that’s enough. If it’s enough for them, and enough for my friends, then it should be enough for me. Perhaps I should have learned this lesson already, but I’m afraid it’s still a new concept to me.” She paused, looking down at her lap. “Thank you, Kanji-kun. I…I’m not quite sure how to say this, but thank you for…finding me to be enough, I suppose.”

“Hey.” Kanji squeezed her hand gently. “’Course you’re enough. You’re more than enough. Just want you to see that.”

“I’m trying. Thank you, I mean it,” she repeated, offering him a tired half-smile. “But in the meantime, let’s see if I can handle a knitting lesson.”

“Right, yeah! Lemme just…” Kanji looked down at their clasped hands. Reluctant though he was to break away, a sort of calm had settled in place of his usual Naoto-related anxiety, so he slipped his fingers from her grip with a feeling that it wasn’t for good. As he dug through his bag for a new skein and an extra pair of needles, Naoto shoved the armrest up out of the way and inched closer to him, watching expectantly. Kanji cleared his throat – maybe ‘calm’ was an overstatement.

“O-okay, let’s get started. Well, uh, you got your needles, and you got your yarn…”

Delving into familiar territory, Kanji began to relax as he walked Naoto through each step, and he saw tension ease from her shoulders, determination lighting her eyes. It took a little while, but she finally tackled a simple chain and contented herself with trying to keep it going. He watched her in silence for a time, a smile playing on his lips at how seriously she took her task. Wrapped up in his own little world, he almost didn’t hear Naoto quietly inquiring about his plans for next weekend, almost didn’t believe it when she said she would enjoy spending more time with him. Carefully adjusting her hands when she got distracted, Kanji replied that, yeah, he’d really like that, priding himself on not tripping over his words.

With that, they lapsed into a comfortable quiet, interspersed with idle conversation as they listened to the pitter-patter of droplets against the train. The worst of the storm was behind them now. Homeward bound, a new glimmer of hope was growing deep within each of them.