Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4424300.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Persona_4
  Relationship:
      Seta_Souji/Tatsumi_Kanji, Narukami_Yu/Tatsumi_Kanji
  Additional Tags:
      Pining, Slow_Build, Friends_to_Lovers, Misunderstandings, Angst, First
      Kiss, First_Time, Rimming, Edgeplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-26 Completed: 2015-08-24 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 25820
****** Didn't I Take You to Higher Places? ******
by pennysparkle
Summary
     Lately, some part of him is changing. It’s all thanks to Souji, he
     knows—and he feels like he’s become stronger and more calm in taking
     these steps to accept himself. There’s not words to begin to explain
     how grateful he is, though more than that, he’s a little embarrassed.
     He can’t come out and say it just yet. He needs to be strong enough
     to stop leaning on Souji first. He needs to be strong enough to help
     him in return.
Notes
     A reverse social link of sorts.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
He comes off as such a goody two-shoes at first, that's what Kanji thinks—all
up on his high horse like he has any right to judge, sticking his nose in
things and asking questions even though it's not his business, following Kanji
like some kind of elementary schooler playing spy, and getting his friends in
on it too. Just because a bunch of people in town think he's so cool and
interesting, he gets to act like this and people don't mind? Because he's a
city kid? Kanji doesn't buy into it, and not only that, but his lackeys are
going to get sick of him sooner or later. People like him never last long.
Kanji's mom thinks he's overreacting, but she tries to think the best in
everyone. She says they're just playing, that maybe they even want to be
friends, and Yuki-chan would never do something to hurt him. But she doesn't
know how teenagers are these days, because they're not nice. He hasn't had
friends since he was a kid; that should say enough.
And it's not just the way he acts. Even looking at him is unsettling. Those
gray eyes feel so hollow and distant; being the focus of his gaze the few times
they've crossed paths has made Kanji feel like a bug being stared at under a
magnifying glass. Plus, being spoken to by him? With that irritating know-it-
all tone? Except that he so rarely says anything—lets his friends do the
talking for him, like they're henchmen or something. He can't even own up to
what he does, so maybe he's a coward too.
But for some reason, those eyes are the first thing Kanji remembers when he
comes to. He feels hazy and dizzy, because it's chokingly hot in this
room—makes his skin feel clammy, his clothes sticking to his body
uncomfortably.
Slowly, he sits up. His back aches like he's been tossed against something
solid, and he rubs at it distractedly, looking around. But the fog is so heavy
he can't see even a few feet in front of himself, and there's a sickly orange
tint to everything, like sunset piercing curtains in the evening.
It's got to be a dream. That's himself standing there, but he's right here, and
something's not quite right. For one thing, he's never worn a loincloth, and
there's a jittery blue aura around his double, and yellow eyes, and—
He passes out again. In and out of consciousness he swims, each time awakening
to be horrified by this version of himself, even being spoken to by it a few
times and giving drowsy (and apparently insufficient) answers in return—each
time hoping it'll be gone, but it never is.
And then he awakens to the sound of feet pounding on wood, and maybe he's a
little bit grateful even to see Mr. Goody Two-Shoes and his posse, even if he
knows it's a dream. With the fight that ensues and the strange things summoned,
he's absolutely sure of it.
Only it's becoming apparent that it's not, no matter how otherworldly it feels.
It all happens so fast that he barely realizes what's going on until after he's
accepted the thing like it's been demanding this whole time.
In the aftermath, he slumps, bone-tired despite how long he's been passed out.
The shoulder he's offered for support belongs to Mr. Goody Two-Shoes himself,
and in this moment, he's glad to take it.
===============================================================================
It takes a couple weeks to feel normal again, and Kanji really wants to avoid
them no matter how many times they come around and pester him into talking.
They've seen the most embarrassing side of him... but then again, they did help
him, and they keep trying to act all chummy with him—something that's both
uncomfortable and kind of tempting. He just wishes the guy (Souji-senpai, he
corrects himself) wouldn't look at him so blankly. It's different from the
sympathy or the judgment, but discomfitting in a whole other way. Like he can
see right through Kanji.
He doesn't know what to say or how to act around Souji, and he feels kind of
obligated to speak to him now, begrudgingly admitting to himself that whatever
snooping and hounding he'd done had resulted in Kanji still having his life.
And it had taken a long while to process that. It's just that Souji is all
coolly silent and thoughtful, intimidating, and come to think of it, Kanji
really doesn't get how somebody like him is best friends with Yosuke-senpai of
all people. Nothing against him—he's just pretty goofy, and Souji decidedly
isn't.
Maybe he's curious. Just a little bit. The few meetings they've had since Kanji
was rescued from the TV have left him confused and trying hard to accept what
had happened, plus everyone kind of gushed about Souji behind his back when
he'd stepped away to use the bathroom once, which makes him even more confused.
So largely, he's been left with more questions than answers.
At any rate, his overwhelming curiosity and the begrudging respect he's
developed for Souji since being rescued are probably the reasons why he's so
concerned over being approached by him, thinking he's some kind of
delinquent bully—and so he follows him out to the Samegawa to "talk" despite
any reservations or awkwardness.
"It's not that I think you did it," Souji says, and there's a gentle, kindly
edge to his tone, nothing at all like the firmness he usually affects in front
of the group—is he trying to keep from upsetting Kanji? Or is he sucking up? Is
this how he got all those friends of his? Because that's sure as hell what it
seems like.
And then he follows it up with, "You don't seem like the type that would do
that to people. I know it's about how you look. Impressions tend to stick out
more than deeds sometimes."
Kanji softens, but only a little bit. He feels kind of irritated at himself for
it, because he'd been so stuck on the idea of having a face to put to his
frustration—but it's not right of him to do that, is it? To treat Souji like a
punching bag? Because he's not wrong; impressions do tend to stick out more
than deeds, and he's letting his impression overtake the fact that Souji had
rescued him. He'd gone out of his way, into harm's way, to ensure that Kanji
was alright. And that counts for something.
He nods, rubbing the back of his neck and turning his face down toward the
ground. It's not like Souji knows about the opinion he'd held on him prior to
being rescued by the Investigation Team (or at least he hopes not) but he still
feels ashamed. All these years being judged himself, and he'd done the same
thing.
But he knows now. Ever since that night he's come to realize, this is his
chance. He'd been living under the burden of who he was without ever admitting
to himself that he was ashamed. But he's willing to change now; he's ready
to accept himself, ready to become better.
"I just wanted to clear things up," Souji says. "I know it's been hard the past
couple weeks, and a lot of things have changed. But I really appreciate you
taking the chance to help us."
He's fidgeting a little bit—like even as kind and helpful as his words are,
he's somehow nervous that Kanji's going to reject him.
And his opinion is changing so rapidly that his head is swimming, but Kanji
tentatively smiles back. "Nah, it's not a big deal, senpai. Thanks for...
y'know. Saving me, and all that."
Souji seems almost shocked to hear that; maybe he doesn't realize the way his
lips part and his eyes go wide, but Kanji definitely does. And for some reason,
he doesn't want the conversation to end here, even if they've got everything
squared away. He only finds himself more and more curious.
"So, uh... you had to go through all of that stuff? The uh... coming out and
all that?" he asks. It's the first thing that comes to his head, and he
realizes maybe it's not the best subject to start out on.
"Coming out...?"
Yeah, it was definitely the wrong thing to say. That whole incident inside the
TV had been a bare moment for Kanji, and he's still a little unsure how
everyone else feels about it. But then he reminds himself he shouldn't care, so
he plows on, trying to make the best of it. "Yeah, like... all that
embarrassing stuff, y'know?"
Souji seems amused, but he shakes his head. "I don't get why, but I didn't have
to go through any of that."
"Oh." He feels a little more embarrassed now, scratching the back of his head
with his gaze averted.
"But it's different for everyone. What matters is that you accepted yourself,
right?"
"Yeah... I guess so."
Souji smiles at him, and they're quiet together for a few moments. Kanji
wonders if this might be the end of that conversation, except it seems like
Souji has something he wants to say, drawing in a breath abruptly and then
holding it until the moment stretches too long and he loses his courage again.
"Is something wrong, senpai?" he prompts, after Souji has done this a couple
times.
"It's just... It's weird, but I kind of worry about it."
Kanji finds himself immediately interested, especially since Souji's choosing
to talk about it with him of all people. "What is it?"
"You guys all had those moments where you had to accept yourself, but I never
did. It seems kind of strange."
"Maybe you're just better than us, senpai," Kanji says, intending to tease.
Except is that okay, seeing as they don't really know each other? Souji's so
good at making him feel at ease that he'd just assumed... "Or more put-
together."
Laughing, Souji shakes his head. "I don't think so. But thanks for the vote of
confidence, Kanji."
===============================================================================
They go out to eat next time, once Kanji has worked up the courage to ask Souji
if he wants to hang out, because that's really about all you can get up to
around here: eating, milling around, and hopefully finding a hobby or a job
that'll keep you from boredom for a little while.
And it's strange, because it's not so bad with Souji as he thought it would end
up. His full-time presence turns out to be just as quiet and comforting as it
had been last time, and Kanji's starting to see that what he had mistaken for
the judgment in his silence was just Souji being genuinely quiet and
contemplative. He probably can't help that he's like that any more than Kanji
can help that he's rowdy and wary of everyone he comes in contact with.
It's just, he feels like he keeps getting into these situations where Souji is
seeing him in some embarrassing act, and it's not his fault. Kanji
doesn't resent him for it, but he does wonder if it affects his opinion any.
Like when the cop walks into Aiya and just assumes right off the bat that he's
up to something, he's really got to wonder if Souji believes it for a second.
His mom never believes that stuff. But he feels bad all the same, for causing
the both of them trouble. They'd just been here to eat, and then
that asshole...
"It's not your fault," Souji says, once the guy has stormed off. "They don't
know you."
"Nah... but mom gets mixed up in it anyway. I wish there was some way to
just... make it stop, y'know?"
"Short of dyeing your hair a respectable color and getting straight A's
suddenly? I don't think it'd happen even then."
That wounds Kanji a little, but he forces it down, because Souji's probably
right. He can't help that the truth is that blunt. "Yeah. All I can do is
behave well and show them, right? That's the most important change to make.
Stop getting caught up in things that are gonna hurt the people around me."
"I think that's easier said than done with the kind of things that happen
around here. Everybody's worried about everybody," says Souji, glancing down at
his phone. He sounds a little unsure, a falter in his voice that Kanji isn't
used to. And he doesn't sound all knowledgable like he usually does. Just like
he's sympathizing.
Somebody like Souji? Worrying anyone? Sure, there's cracks in his armor, but
he's more put together than the rest of them, as far as Kanji can tell.
"What about you, senpai? What're things like for you?" he asks on a burst of
confidence.
Souji's attention is thankfully drawn back to him, and his eyebrows raise up a
little bit under his bangs. "Me? What do you mean?"
"Like... what's your family like? Do your parents worry about you a lot? I bet
they don't... you seem like you'd be a good son."
"Oh... I don't live with my parents. I'm staying with my uncle and my cousin
here."
"Yeah? How's that going?"
"My uncle's a detective, so he's always busy, but he cares a lot. And
Nanako..." He pauses, seeming unsure about what he's about to say. It takes him
a couple seconds to get going again, and when he does, he's quieter. "She's
good too. I just worry about her."
Curiously, Kanji leans in. Souji probably doesn't realize how secretive and
mysterious he is, but Kanji's been wondering about him almost constantly since
his rescue. At every turn, his mind is changing on Souji, and he seriously
wants just a hint of real clarity. "Huh. Why's that?"
"She's lonely. Her mom died, so it's just been her and her dad."
That... definitely wasn't what Kanji was expecting. There's a melancholic edge
that he hides too well, and being confronted with it, Kanji almost feels like
he's seeing something he's not supposed to. But he's not going to make Souji
feel awkward for having shared.
"That's rough, senpai. I'm sorry."
Souji smiles. "It's not a big deal. Maybe it's good, in a way. Both of my
parents are alive, but I know how it feels to be lonely, so I want to make sure
she doesn't have to grow up the way that I did."
Finally, a tidbit about Souji. Kanji feels a pleasant tingle inside from being
entrusted with such a fact. "That's pretty selfless of you."
Now that he's shared, Souji seems a little uncomfortable, however. He turns his
face away, looking blankly ahead. "I just don't want people to have to worry."
The way he says it makes it sound like something he thinks about a lot. Maybe
as much as Kanji thinks about worrying his mom, and he can't help but to pat
Souji awkwardly on the back as steaming plates heaped high with food are placed
in front of them.
"Yeah. I get that."
"Dojima-san—"
Kanji cuts in, and he doesn't really mean to—he just... wow. "Dojima-san? Your
uncle is... he's... that detective?" The one that's always got his intense
glare trained on Kanji when he's around, that's Souji's uncle? No wonder he
doesn't want to cause trouble.
"Yeah," says Souji, a quirk to his mouth that might be the hint of a smile.
"He's mentioned you a couple times."
"Shit... that must be why you thought I'd been bullying kids."
"I didn't think that," Souji says, a strange look taking over his face.
"Yeah... I guess you're right. Sorry, what were you gonna say?"
Souji takes a couple minutes to remember. In the meantime, they both dig into
their respective meals, Kanji much more indelicately than Souji. He eats slow
and measured, each bite tidy and small enough that nothing spills over. Kanji,
he's enthusiastic—even knowing he'll have his mom's food at home, he rips into
the potstickers on his plate, eating half of them before Souji's even taken a
dent out of his beef bowl.
"I was just going to say... everyone feels like they owe their parents, but
it's hard to grow up feeling like you have to be independant from a young age.
And Nanako doesn't deserve that."
Kanji wonders if Souji's speaking from experience there. It sure sounds like
it, though he seems careful about the way he words things, not wanting to let
on too much. Maybe he hates being pitied, and Kanji knows it's not his place to
judge, but he feels a little bit defensive of Souji already. "Yeah. Sorry,
senpai. You're gonna be good for her, though."
"I hope so," Souji admits, digging his chopsticks into the bowl for a load of
rice and beef, then bringing it to his mouth. They speak no more on that topic
for the rest of the meal—Kanji not realizing until later how quick Souji is to
shift the discussion when it lingers too close to himself. But he doesn't mind
so much. That tiny taste leaves him anxious to come back for more.
===============================================================================
Tentatively, he's settling into the group. They're all nice enough (though
Yosuke can really get on his nerves at times) and it's kind of cool to have
people that know his secret and still accept him. After all these years of
struggling to keep everyone away, he doesn't mind so much that he's let them
in.
They're good for him. For the first time in a long time, his mom doesn't seem
so worried about him, even smiles when he says he's going out with them. Lately
he's even been thinking about bringing Souji around for dinner or something,
just to really meet her. Maybe even today, seeing as they're hanging out with
nothing to really do.
Things are going, dare he say it, good—which is why he's so shocked when one of
the neighbors runs up as soon as they arrive home to tell him that his mom is
in the hospital of all places. But she hadn't said anything about feeling bad
lately, nor did she need a checkup. That had been earlier in the year, so why?
Kanji's mind moves a mile a minute, jumping from one conclusion to the next.
She must have collapsed. Had it all been too much for her? The kidnapping and
all that? He'd considered how it had affected him, but of course she'd be
worried sick. And to have to keep opening the shop when he wasn't around, too?
Worry is clutching at his throat as he tries to say goodbye to Souji. Only, and
Kanji is starting to learn this, Souji is too good of a friend to just let him
run off alone. "I'll come with you," he says, and he keeps pace the entire way
to the hospital.
Kanji's breathing so hard when they get inside that it takes him a couple
seconds to register that she's walking toward them just fine. And his panic
settles into confusion, and then, strangely—irritation. He storms off to find
himself a deserted corridor to stew in, because it's not right that he'd been
so terrified, and she'd been almost amused by his upset.
Souji's by his side. Instead of leaving him, he'd chased after and now he's
standing beside Kanji, guarding him from view. And in their silence, Kanji
realizes that this must be how his mother feels about him all the time. She
must worry sick about him, and he's just running around like nothing is a big
deal, thinking it absurd that he'd ever end up in a situation where she'd
really, truly have a reason to be scared. But she's been terrified anyway,
every single time.
"I don't blame you for being upset," Souji says softly, with some ache in his
voice that Kanji might later pinpoint as longing, but which makes him a little
bit sad to hear in the present. "Your mom seems really nice, and I know she
cares a lot about you. I know you care a lot about her too."
"She's fine though. It was stupid to be scared."
"No it wasn't. Wouldn't it be worse if you hadn't been scared?"
"I mean... I guess so." Kanji blows out a long breath, rubbing the back of his
neck. "She wouldn't leave me all alone anyway. She's too stubborn for that."
Souji smiles at him, but there's a hint of something in his eyes. It's not the
normal calm—maybe it's just a tiny flinch. He's probably not even aware of it,
and if Kanji hadn't been looking so closely, he might not have noticed it
either.
The thing is that he's vulnerable. Souji does his best not to show it, but it's
there, bubbling right at the surface every time he thinks no one is paying
attention to him. And it's possible that they don't. Maybe everyone else is
content to have Souji's ear, maybe they just don't notice how carefully he
hides it. Like with Kanji, he tries so hard to get him to talk about what's
going on in his life and never gives much about himself in return until Kanji
presses, so it feels as though he, consciously or unconsciously, wants to hide.
But Kanji isn't going to let him.
Just, maybe later—now he sees his mom walking up with that kid and he panics
because he doesn't want her to see him like this. So he runs, sparing barely
even a goodbye to Souji. He'll have to make it up to him later, but right now
he's mostly concerned with getting out of here as fast as he can. Hospitals
have always been too stifling for him anyway.
When he gets home, out of breath and feeling belatedly ridiculous for running
off like that, he closes up the shop. He should have done that before going to
the hospital in the first place, but he'd been so scared that instinct had
taken over, and anyway no one would come in to mess the place up. The residents
of the shopping district take care of each other; that's how it's always been.
Now, standing amongst the messy silence of his room, he finds that he doesn't
want to be alone. Not right now. He's wishing he hadn't parted ways with Souji
so quickly, or that he'd at least ignored his own pride to stay behind and walk
his mother home, but it's kind of late for that now.
What if something had happened to her? The house is already quiet enough as it
is without his dad. And if it was just him from now on, then what would any of
this be for? All this business of turning over a new leaf, making a new start
for himself—he's really trying hard to do what's right by her. She has to see
it so that she can be proud, so that she'll know how much it matters to him for
her to know that he wants to be good, and stop worrying her, stop shaming her.
The door opens downstairs. There's the chatter of voices, then footsteps on the
stairs, and finally a soft knock at his door.
He flings it open, trying to toss away his insecurities and worries as he does
so, and he's apparently as surprised to find Souji there as Souji is to see the
look on his face.
"Hey... sorry about that. I panicked," he grunts, embarrassed.
"It's alright," Souji says. "Can I come in?"
Kanji glances back, then takes another moment to freak out because his room
is covered in supplies. There's a half-knitted bear on his bed, a desk covered
in scraps of fabric and sewing materials, pattern books stacked and spread open
on his work table. Souji can't see this. Not yet.
He shakes his head, and before Souji can look too disappointed, he steps out of
his room and closes the door behind him. "Let's go downstairs. There's not a
lot of uh... fun stuff in my room. Sorry."
Souji nods without questioning him and follows him back down the stairs.
There's the sound of his mother starting on dinner in the kitchen, and though
his first instinct is to tell her to take it easy, he knows she won't listen.
So he leads Souji into the living room, offers him a seat on the old worn-out
couch and then plops down beside him.
"Your mom invited me to have dinner. I couldn't say no to her," Souji says with
a small, fond smile.
"Eh, it's alright. She likes to cook. I told you, she'll make enough food to
feed the both of us for a week."
"It was really nice of her. I'll have to bring her something as a thank you.
Does she like sweets?" Souji asks.
He's seriously too considerate. Kanji wonders if his parents brought him up to
be so polite, or if he's just that afraid of being anything but perfect. Still,
he's looking expectantly at Kanji, so he answers.
"Uh... kind of. She likes fancy cakes, but you don't have to go that far."
Souji nods slowly, considering. It wouldn't surprise Kanji if he went out of
his way to make it homemade, and he's about to tell him again not to make too
much effort—that his mom would be happy with anything Souji were to bring—but
she walks in then with a jug of barley tea and a tray of cups.
"I thought you two might like something to drink, but we don't have much aside
from tea. Sou-chan, if you'd like soda or something, Kanji would be happy to go
up the street to the vending machine for you."
"Ma," he groans, covering his face. It's all red, because she knows without
consulting him that he would, and besides, he wouldn't begrudge the effort if
it was for Souji.
"I—thank you, Tatsumi-san," says Souji, and he sounds all flustered. Kanji
uncovers his eyes to see him, looking shocked and bashful all at the same time.
Surely not because he's surprised Kanji would do that for him, right?
She leaves the room soon after setting the tray and jug down, and Souji thanks
her once more, but Kanji is already turning to him.
"What the hell was that all about?"
"Did I do something wrong?"
"The—the look on your face."
"What look?" Souji asks, pouring a glass of tea which he passes over to Kanji,
and then one for himself.
"You looked all... I don't know. Nervous but happy."
Souji gets that same look on his face again for only a split second. Then it's
gone, and Kanji feels almost sad about that fact.
"C'mon. What was it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Souji says shiftily.
Really. The only person more stubborn in this house than Souji right now is his
mother, but they're neck and neck. Kanji doesn't even get why it's a big deal.
"You don't have to keep it a secret from me," he says, trying to sound
encouraging—which really just means he's trying to copy Souji's compassionate
voice, and he doesn't think it's working out all that well. "I'm not gonna
judge, y'know. Unless you say you have a crush on my mom or something."
Souji's reaction to that is apparently further shock, choking on a mouthful of
tea even as his hand comes to wave at the air between them, as if trying to
brush away Kanji's previous statement. So it likely wasn't that.
Kanji thumps at Souji's back until he stops coughing and sputtering on the tea,
and then Souji takes a deep breath, hesitating with eyes glancing between the
doorway and back to Kanji.
Finally he speaks, voice quieter and just a hint nervous. "I just—she called me
Sou-chan."
"Oh. Should she not do that?"
"It's not that," Souji's quick to say.
He's really making it hard to get an actual answer out of him, but Kanji nudges
against his side as he takes a sip of his tea. "I don't think you're weird or
anything, so just come out with it."
"It made me happy," Souji blurts, probably trying to force it out before he
loses his nerve.
"Well, she—I don't know. I guess she likes you. She's not used to me having
people coming around, y'know? So she's probably really happy about it."
Souji nods, and takes another deep breath as if he's about to plunge into a
pool full of water. "I've never really gotten to meet people's parents," he
says, dragging a fingertip in swirls through the condensation on the outside of
his glass. "I wasn't sure if I'd be the kind of friend people's parents like."
"Are you kidding?" Kanji asks with a disbelieving laugh. "You're exactly the
kind of friend people's parents like."
"Are you teasing him, Kan-chan?" Kanji's mother asks as she steps into the room
again. She has another tray in hand, this one full of bowls and chopsticks.
"Why don't you come help me bring dinner in?"
He jumps up, but Souji does too—apparently unaware that this is exactly the
kind of behavior that makes him seem like such a parent pleaser. But it's not a
bad thing.
"Oh, you don't have to help, dear. We can take care of it," Kanji's mother
says, patting him gently on the arm.
"It's not a problem," Souji replies, resolutely following them into the kitchen
and taking a plate of grilled fish in one hand, a bowl of salad in the other.
It doesn't leave much for Kanji, aside from the rice and the miso soup, which
he grabs while his mother takes a handful of potholders. Good—she doesn't need
to be getting up to so much work. Kanji's sure of that, after today's earlier
events. Preventative measures and all that.
They settle down at the table together, his mother to Kanji's right and Souji
in front of him. If his dad hadn't passed away, the table would be full right
now, and it's hard not to think of him when it's just been one of those
days full of reminders. But in the end it's not something worth dwelling over,
not when he's feeling pretty good for the first time in a long time. The mere
fact that Souji is in front of him at all feels like a miracle; even a month
has taught him that this is someone who'd stick by him no matter what, and the
knowledge of that humbles him. He's feeling warm and happy as they start to
serve themselves.
"Sou-chan, Kanji tells me you've been helping him clean up his act. It's not
enough, but I hope you'll consider dinner as part of my thanks to you," his
mother says once they've begun eating.
"Ma, stop it!" he demands. The absence of friends in his life has apparently
not at all stunted her ability to embarrass him in front of them.
"Oh, shush."
Souji smiles. "It's no trouble. He wanted to do it, so I'm just supporting
him," he says.
His mother glances fondly over at Kanji before speaking again,
probably knowing that she's embarrassing him. "Kan-chan is a good boy... It's
not his fault people pick on him. I just wish they'd hurry and learn that he
doesn't mean any trouble."
Souji nods back at her, in complete and enthusiastic agreement. It shouldn't
surprise Kanji that he feels this way, but he's nevertheless pleased to know
that Souji doesn't think badly of him for what he's done in the past.
And he's even more glad when his mother's focus shifts toward the topic of
Souji. Not only does it mean they won't be talking about him anymore, it means
they'll be talking about Souji—and mothers have ways of getting kids to talk.
No more of this avoidance that Souji's been managing with him.
"You're staying with Detective Dojima, correct?"
"Yes. He's my uncle, so he probably felt obligated when my mom called."
Kanji's mother's eyes widen at this; maybe unused to the frankness of Souji's
speech, or perhaps his sudden self-deprecation. "Oh, no, dear. He's a good
man—he's never cruel to Kanji like some of the police around here are—but I'm
sure that's not why he took you in."
Whether or not that's true, Souji just smiles at her indulgently. "He's kind,
though. Very welcoming."
"Of course. It's always hard to adjust to a new place, so it's good to hear
he's been helpful."
Souji nods as he takes a sip of tea. "It's nice to be treated like family.
Sometimes when I stay places it's a little awkward."
"Oh? So you move around a lot? Do your parents work overseas?"
"Sometimes. They go on a lot of trips, so I tend to stay with family or friends
for a month or two, depending. Never as long as this, though," Souji says. He's
practically an open book for her, and Kanji would be jealous, but if he gets to
reap the rewards of this, it's fine. Surely Souji wouldn't say it if he didn't
want Kanji to hear...
His mother's face creases in sympathy, her head tilted toward him. "You must
miss them."
"Um..." Souji seems hesitant to elaborate; still, he nods his head.
"Do you have siblings, Sou-chan?" she asks then, glancing toward Kanji
momentarily to give him a wink. He flushes, trying not to seem overly
interested.
"No. But Nanako calls me big bro, so I guess I have something like that." And
it's easy to hear his happiness at those words. He seems to derive a lot of
simple pleasures from things Kanji had never really considered, but then, from
what he's hearing right now, he and Souji grew up completely differently.
He'd had a happy childhood; the kids in the shopping district liked to play
with him a lot, and it was only as he got older and his hobbies seemed
more... odd that they started to push him away. Still, his parents always loved
him, and they always reminded him of this fact. He never felt like he had to
change to live up to their expectations; from piecing together everything he's
gathered from Souji's silences and hesitations, from the tiny hints he's given
prior, Kanji's wondering why it always seems like his parents taught him
that he did.
"Well... we're glad you're here. Aren't we, Kanji?" she says, smiling at Souji
gently and making him smile back in turn—wider than Kanji's ever seen him
smile.
He nods, dazed, as he sips at his soup. He's glad he can hide his face mostly
behind the bowl, because he's embarrassed at her accusation.
"Thank you," Souji says politely.
They chatter over the rest of dinner, but it's nothing as deep as before.
Kanji wishes it was. He finds himself immensely curious even still, especially
considering how Souji seems to preen under Kanji's mother's constant referral
to him as 'Sou-chan'.
By the time they're through, bowls emptied and movements sluggish, the sun has
gone down outside, and he knows Souji's going to have to leave soon. He can see
it in the way he keeps hesitating between announcing his obligations at home
and his apparent desire to stay here. But he's not getting anywhere like that.
"C'mon senpai. I'll walk you home," Kanji says, clambering up tiredly. The
exercise will do him good; even with Souji at dinner to eat a decent portion,
he'd managed to stuff himself full.
"Oh—I should help with the dishes though," says Souji, looking torn.
"No worries, dear. I've got a dishwasher," his mother says with a wink in
Souji's direction.
He relents under such a point, but bows to Kanji's mother and thanks her twice
before Kanji manages to get him out the door into the coming warmth of a late
spring night. There's crickets and cicadas chirping in the trees and the
underbrush as they begin to move past the shrine, comforting sounds he's heard
all his life, but he realizes Souji's probably still getting used to a silence
filled only with that.
"So... I hope she didn't embarrass you too much," he begins.
"No. It was nice," says Souji. It's not hard to tell how earnest and genuine
his words are.
"You, uh. You're not used to people doting on you, are you?"
Souji turns to look at him, his footsteps faltering slightly. "Was it that
obvious?"
"Kinda. It seemed like you didn't know what to do when she was being nice to
you... and the whole Sou-chan thing sorta topped it off."
"Oh." For a few moments, Souji keeps his head down—as if he needs time to
collect his thoughts. "My parents aren't all that nurturing."
"Huh. Why'd they decide to have a kid, then?"
"They didn't. I was a surprise."
Oh. Souji doesn't exactly sound proud of that fact; in fact, he glances away as
he says it, rubbing one of his arms self-consciously.
"Damn. That's heavy, senpai."
In response, Souji shrugs. "I've gotten used to it."
They're quickly coming up on the Dojima residence. Kanji wants to say more,
wishes he could comfort Souji, but it seems like he's mostly closed himself
off.
"Well... ma likes you. You should come over more often."
At least Souji smiles at him this time. "Thanks. I think I will."
They part ways at the doorstep, Kanji waiting until Souji steps inside. Then he
turns back toward home, walking slowly and kicking rocks that lay in his path.
It feels like the more he learns about Souji, the more he regrets his previous
opinions of him, but he's trying to do better now. And it feels good to be
close with him. He likes being around him, has started looking forward to it
maybe a disproportionate amount.
His mom is still in the kitchen when he gets back, wiping down the counters,
and she looks up at him as the door rattles closed.
"Did you get him home safely?" she asks, smiling at him briefly.
"Yeah."
"Good." She turns back to the counter, and Kanji is about to head upstairs, but
it seems she's not done with him yet.
"I'm happy you gave him a chance, Kan-chan. He's a good boy. And he makes you
happy," his mother says, her eyes meeting his behind her glasses. She looks so
much older than she did when he was a child, and he regrets that it's probably
all his fault. But she's beautiful. "A mother knows how important it is to feel
like that."
"I told him he could come over more. Is that okay?" Kanji asks, appreciative
but nevertheless unsure how to be gentle and kind in return to her own
sweetness. It's always been his sticking point.
She laughs, like she's amused he'd even have to ask. "Of course. He looks like
he needs a little bit of motherly love in his life."
Kanji scoffs as he heads toward the stairs. Of course she'd have Souji pegged
long before he did.
===============================================================================
"Senpai, you never say anything about yourself," he begins. He's thought about
this more and more since they were eating dinner at his house a couple days
ago; in fact, it's kind of taken over his free time.
Beside him, Souji's fingers are running over the seam of a piece of paper,
creasing it into perfection before folding it over into a triangle. He's been
doing this for close to an hour now, folding paper cranes and then putting them
into a big plastic container behind him on the table. Kanji had tried to help,
but it seems, despite his skill with certain handicrafts, he's no good at this
particular one.
"What do you mean?" Souji asks. He drops the now-completed crane—a pretty pink,
orange, and yellow starburst pattern—into the bin, then takes a fresh sheet of
paper from his pile.
"Like... well, y'know. I feel like I know a lot about everybody but you. And I
feel like you know me really well already. Like everything there is to me."
Which might be weird, but then again he has been spending a lot of time with
Souji the past month or so. They'd clicked from the very moment he decided to
stop doubting him so much.
But a strange look comes over Souji's face, and he glances away from the paper
he's been folding to look at Kanji instead. "I've told you a lot about me. You
and Yosuke both probably know me the best."
Is that really supposed to mean anything to Kanji? If Yosuke knows about the
same amount of Souji that he does, then Souji's doing a pretty good job of
keeping everyone in the dark. And for some reason that worries him.
"Still... I wanna know more about you," he pushes, feeling a belated tinge of
embarrassment at his own choice of wording. That makes it sound so... weird.
"Like what?" Souji sounds carefully distanced, like no matter what Kanji comes
up with, he's going to do his best to avoid the question anyway.
And he doesn't get it. Kanji knows that in the past, he's done his utmost to
keep everyone at bay in an effort to make sure they never got close, that
they'd never see what he's really like underneath the tough facade. Because
they'd just hurt him, they'd reject him, none of them could ever really like
him.
But Souji is different. From the very beginning, people have flocked to him.
Everyone is desperate for his time, to the point that some days Kanji doesn't
even get a chance to see him. They praise him and look up to him, and at one
point Kanji might have hated him for it because he so desperately wanted that
for himself, because he needed someone to be angry at... but he's calmed down.
And there's really no one that's more worthy of love and acceptance than Souji
is. There's no one here that's kinder or more compassionate, who really cares
about their friends like Souji does.
He's starting to realize that he'd been wrong about him, or rather, that he'd
never been right about him to begin with. He hadn't been haughty; he'd
been scared, and he still is, no matter how much he tries to hide it. He hadn't
been nosy, either; he'd been concerned, when no one else had been. From the
start he'd been selfless, and Kanji genuinely regrets ever thinking badly of
him. He desperately wants to know all about him, to listen to him and connect
with him on a deeper level like Souji's done for so many others. It's the least
he can do, isn't it? Especially when the idea appeals to him so much.
"Have you always gotten good grades?" It's not something he really wants to
know, but it's the first thing that pops into his mind. He rubs the back of his
neck, grumbling silently.
Souji shrugs his shoulders vaguely, carefully fanning out his paper crane so
that it sits nicely. Then it gets placed in the box and he moves on again.
He's not even going to answer the easy questions; Kanji may as well go for the
hard ones, at least to see how he reacts.
"Do you like being around people all the time?"
Souji looks at him, eyebrows drawn together as he nods shortly. But there's no
explanation. It's like if the answer is even a little bit complicated, then
it's not worth going into detail over, which—strangely—warms Kanji's heart just
a little bit.
"Do you like your friends here?"
"Of course. You guys are... amazing." He hesitates at amazing, except it
doesn't seem to be in a bad way. More like he'd wanted to say something else,
and that makes Kanji immensely curious—but he knows he's not going to get an
answer if he asks.
"Are you going to miss us when you leave?"
Souji's face creases up and he looks down compulsively, his fingers going
utterly still on the piece of paper. Kanji feels like he's struck a nerve,
because the glimpse of one gray eye that he can see looks suddenly as blank as
he'd assumed Souji was in the beginning.
"Of course," he says again, his voice soft—quiet enough that Kanji barely
catches the tiny hitch to it, the way his eyebrows furrow deeper before his
head turns to the side.
Kanji goes quiet in return, feeling like he should respect the fact that Souji
doesn't really want to talk about this. Even as badly as he wants to know about
him, it's probably not right to just push and push when he's so clearly not
ready to talk about it.
He means to lighten the mood. But what comes out of is mouth is, "Do you have a
crush on anybody?"
Souji's fingers slip and he manages to destroy half the crane he'd started
working on again. He's got a look on his face like he ate something sour, and
it makes Kanji chuckle, then full-on laugh to see.
"I'll take that as a no," he says.
Souji's shoulders lift in a shrug, then drop again. It's not a move of
stubbornness, but more that he seems helpless as to how to speak about himself.
Kanji has to wonder how it is that he's gone through life to arrive here, to be
like this, to not know why people would want to know about him or how to let
them in.
"Well, uh..." Maybe he should try the really simple things. "What's your
favorite food?"
"Deep-fried tofu with veggies," Souji says, and after some serious
contemplation in which he even looks worried about revealing what comes next,
"I like cake too."
Kanji doesn't get why that's such a big secret, but he smiles. "That's cool.
Sometimes when my mom goes to Okina for errands, she brings cake back from this
one place. They're all cute and stuff... y'know?"
Somehow even mentioning cute things manages to make Kanji blush, but at least
Souji isn't looking at him right now.
"Oh. I know what you're talking about. It's near a ramen place, right?"
Kanji's surprised by that, for some reason—Souji just goes and hangs out at
those places? Like it's no big deal? And people don't give him crap for it?
"Kanji?"
Kanji looks up, startled to see that Souji's looking at him with those intense
eyes now. "Huh? Oh, yeah. She used to take me there when I was younger. Is that
weird?"
"No. Is it weird that I go there now?"
"Nah, I guess not. But you could do anything you wanted and it'd be cool,
senpai." Kanji's a little bit jealous of that fact, though not in a malicious
way. Maybe he just has to work on himself.
Souji smiles at him, then goes back to folding cranes. "I still need to do a
favor for her... maybe I'll stop by next time in Okina."
"You go there a lot?" Kanji asks casually—maybe it was the whole awkward
questions thing that had made this so strange in the first place; now that he's
got Souji talking, it seems like he's doing just fine to answer the normal
conversational things.
"Not really. Every so often. Ebihara-san likes to go and shop there when we
hang out."
"I don't really go much. The police patrol there a lot more than they do here."
Souji hums in thought, finishing yet another crane and putting it in the bin
before addressing Kanji. "Maybe we can go there together sometime. It could be
fun."
"Yeah. Maybe." But the thought of having something to do with Souji—real,
actual plans with him, kind of excites Kanji. He's never had one-on-one plans
with anyone, at least not that he can remember.
"It must be pretty boring for you... Living out here in the country, I mean.
You came from Tokyo, right?" he asks, emboldened by the fact that Souji's
dropping answers freely now.
"Yes." Great. Now he's clamming up again, shutting down before Kanji's eyes,
because apparently he's gone the wrong direction in this conversation to keep
him loose and at ease.
"I've never been to a city that big," Kanji says. He feels like he's
desperately angling a rudder against a stormy sea while the waves batter him,
and at every turn he's foiled. It's really hard to convince Souji to talk about
himself, he's learning. "It seems exciting."
"It's nice here, though," says Souji. And Kanji can tell he's really trying. He
really wants to be able to talk to Kanji, he thinks, but it just seems so hard
for him, like it's been ingrained in him to remain reserved and closed-off.
"Quiet."
"Well, yeah. Before all the murders and stuff, it was really quiet. Everybody
knows everybody, and all that." Which is probably why he'd been so adamant
about not going to school after a certain point; he couldn't be around those
people. They all knew everything about him. They all judged him.
"It's just... small," he continues. Too small for people like him, too small
for all of them, probably. And not just mentally—when he looks over toward the
railing, he can see almost all the buildings in town spread out below them.
From here, it might seem big enough to make him feel small, but he can imagine
places much bigger. Places that would make him tiny.
He starts to look away, but pauses. There's that kid from the other day,
sitting all alone on one of the benches near the fence. His mom had said
something about him being bullied, and that makes him feel a little soft. It
hits too close to home.
Before he knows it, he's getting up and walking over, taking a seat beside him
as he kicks his legs and stares down at his lap.
Kanji glances quickly back toward the table, checking to see if his absence is
being questioned. Souji has stood up too, putting down his paper and coming to
hover nearby—like silent support, maybe. He's letting Kanji do all the talking,
but he's still here if either of them need him.
And he's not judging. He never does—just listens silently to the kid as he
talks about the bunny he'd borrowed and how he'd thrown it away, probably
completely unaware how much Kanji is sympathizing right now. Even when Kanji
abruptly stands and tells the kid to follow him, Souji offers to come too. He
should have expected it, and still, he's constantly surprised by Souji's
dedication.
So they're down by the flood plain, Kanji waist-deep in water that's a little
chilly for his tastes. The doll really isn't anywhere to be found; he's losing
hope, and gaining an uncomfortable tingle inside from the cold water rushing
against him.
It feels good to do something for someone, though. And maybe he's wishing that
someone had done this for him when he was younger, when he drew into himself
for his hobbies and passions instead of showing them to the world. But the fact
that he can do this for the kid is good enough.
Still, at some point, he has to give in. The chill has settled too deeply
inside of him, and the water is rushing fast enough that he's sure the doll has
washed away. There has to be something he can do, though...
He's nervous talking about getting a replacement for the bunny in front of
Souji. He probably wouldn't judge Kanji, but the fact remains that it's
something he's been judged for before—so he speaks as vaguely as possible, and
when the kid finally runs off to find his friend, Kanji sighs and turns to
Souji.
"You're going to get him a new one? How?" Souji asks, but curiously. Not as if
he's doubting Kanji.
He doesn't know if he can say it. It's true that he thought Souji knew
everything about him, but there's that one last bit that's just... weird. And
he doesn't want to lose Souji. Maybe he's starting to understand why he's so
reluctant to talk about himself at times.
"Man... my nose is starting to feel all stuffy," he says, avoiding the
question. It's a bit of a lie, but now that he thinks of it, his
chest is getting all heavy and uncomfortable. And he feels like he has to
sneeze, but it's evading him.
"Are you alright? The water is probably still cold this time of year... We
should get you home and dry you off," Souji says. He's always so concerned, and
Kanji feels a warmth rush through him despite the chill.
Lately, some part of him is changing. It's all thanks to Souji, he knows—and he
feels like he's become stronger and more calm in taking these steps to accept
himself. There's not words to begin to explain how grateful he is, though more
than that, he's a little embarrassed. He can't come out and say it just yet. He
needs to be strong enough to stop leaning on Souji first. He needs to be strong
enough to help him in return.
"It's fine. I can go home by myself," he says.
Souji's face falls a little, as if he hadn't been expecting Kanji to reject him
like that—but it's too late to take it back, and before he knows it, Souji
looks completely fine again. Like it had never happened at all.
"Alright. I'll bring you soup sometime, then. Be careful, Kanji."
He turns away first. And the usually strong line of his shoulders seems to
hunch minutely.
===============================================================================
After meeting at the gazebo and delivering the replacements to the kid, it's
all out in the open now. Souji knows his unusual pastime, and Kanji doesn't
know why he'd been so worried about it in the first place. Or why he'd assumed
that Souji hadn't guessed. Turns out he's known all along.
The point is that he just smiles and says he's proud of Kanji when the kid
bounces off with his armful of bunnies and accessories. And Kanji feels
gracious that he hadn't made a big deal of it, nor is he doing so now. All he's
doing is extracting a thermos from his bag along with two bowls.
"What's that, senpai?"
"I said I'd bring you soup, right? To help you feel better. So I did," Souji
says, his eyes cast downward as he distributes the contents of the thermos
between the two bowls. The one he eventually passes to Kanji has a little bit
more, and he's about to comment, but the look on Souji's face says for him to
just accept it as it is.
They sit together on the picnic table beneath the cover of the gazebo's roof.
Even if they've only been here once before, it's starting to feel a little bit
like their place, and Kanji smiles to himself as he takes a sip of the soup.
It's good. Souji's so good at cooking—and even if that seems like a hobby girls
would typically have, it doesn't seem strange when it's Souji. In fact, he's
got a lot of hobbies and interests like this; if he thinks Souji is this cool,
then why shouldn't others think the same of him just because he sews?
"Thanks, senpai," he says after swallowing down a good half of the bowl.
Already he's craving more, but he doesn't want to ask.
Souji smiles at him. "It's no problem. The least I could do."
They eat mostly in silence, but Kanji finds it hard to keep from watching
Souji. He's so delicate and careful about everything, never spilling a drop or
making a mess. He feels bad for just scarfing his own portion down like he
hasn't eaten in days; it's just that Souji's cooking makes him a little bit
ravenous, and so his bowl is emptied long before Souji's is.
He leans back with a yawn and a sigh, stretching his arms up above his head.
"That was really good."
"I brought an extra for you to take home," Souji says, putting down his spoon.
To begin with, he actually bothered to use one, unlike Kanji did. "That way
your mom would have some too."
Kanji doesn't even know if his mom will see a drop of it, let alone have any
once Kanji's done with it. But he nods anyway. These kinds of gestures from
Souji have been getting to him lately.
It's not just when they hang out alone. It's about how Souji always makes sure
Kanji feels included in the group, how he'll defend him against unthinking
comments, how he'll come to the first floor hallway specifically to say hi to
him before school starts, how he'll stop in at the shop when he's in the
shopping district. No one's ever treated him like this. No one's ever gone out
of their way to show him how much they care about him.
And he wants to return each and every gesture to Souji, except he doesn't
know how. Souji's never been anything but good to him, and he finds it a
daunting task to try and come up with something for someone so endlessly kind,
giving everything he has, wanting nothing but the best for his friends... It
astonishes Kanji that he's opened up his heart to let him in even a little. It
feels like some kind of blessing, and it's overwhelming at times. Where is he
even supposed to begin to explain how humbled he feels by Souji's attention?
How happy it makes him?
"Uh... senpai, I was wondering. Would you... uh. Want... one of my dolls?" he
asks abruptly.
Souji looks up, surprised—as if he hadn't quite heard right. It's embarrassing
enough that Kanji scratches the back of his head and looks pointedly away with
a grimace.
"Nevermind..."
"No. I think it'd be cute," Souji says earnestly. "It's really cute. Imagining
you sitting up in your room surrounded by half-finished bunnies."
Kanji flushes up even more, wishing he could turn his entire body away and not
look at Souji anymore. Getting compliments from him is enough to make Kanji's
entire day, and the way he's laughing all quiet and soft, with that gentle look
on his face—it's gonna be the death of him.
"Yeah... okay. I'll make one for you then."
Souji smiles indulgently at him again, and Kanji's wondering if he smiles this
much around everyone else. So much of the time he's kind of stone-faced and
blank, but Kanji's come to realize that he says certain things with
the intent of getting Souji to give him one of those smiles now. They're
becoming less rare, and he's so pleased that he can manage this.
It's not weird... or at least he doesn't think so. It's not like he intends it
in a strange way or anything. He just knows that Souji has given him so much,
and he really wants the same for him in return. There's no one he's met who
deserves happiness more than Souji.
But it just so happens that he wants to be the one to give it to him. Or one of
the reasons Souji has it. Maybe that's the weird part... thinking about how
anxious he is to hang around with Souji, to invite him over, to just... be with
him.
And the more he thinks about it, the more it does sound weird. The more he
thinks about it, the more he thinks that while friendship and making him happy
is all well and good, he just wants to give Souji more. And that's worrying.
He thinks... he thinks he might be falling for Souji. It makes sense; the weird
flutter he's been getting lately when Souji says his name. Or the
disappointment when he laughs harder at one of Yosuke's jokes than at Kanji's.
Or how the last thing he thinks about before falling asleep these days is how
he'll get to see Souji tomorrow.
And it's not a conscious decision, but when Souji calls his name to get his
attention, he jumps up from the picnic table and takes off running at full-
tilt. He doesn't even remember to grab the thermos Souji had taken out for him.
Souji doesn't chase him, or at least not fast enough to catch up with Kanji. He
supposes that's one of the perks of being so much taller than everyone else.
Soon he's whirling past the shrine and into the house, panting with his hands
on his knees, fiercely trying to catch his breath.
"Kan-chan?" his mother asks from the shopfront. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, ma. I'm fine. I'm goin' upstairs, okay? I feel kinda woozy still."
"Alright. Call me if you need anything."
"Yeah," Kanji says, already taking the stairs by two. His heart is hammering in
his chest, and he pushes into his bedroom with shaking hands.
It wasn't supposed to go like this. They were just supposed to
be friends—Souji's really his first one ever, and he has to go and mess it up
by developing some crush. And it's not like with Naoto, because there's no pre-
built foundation there, really. He's just met him a few times and thought they
were similar, that there could be something between them, that he was cute.
But there's already something between he and Souji. There's the best friend
he's ever had, the one person aside from his mom that's never judged him, never
thought of him as weird, never bullied him. He can't do this to Souji. He
can't ruin this.
Except neither can he stop thinking about him now that he's started. He can't
think about the way Souji's softened up around him, the gentle look in his eyes
every time he looks at Kanji, the way he just seems
so small and vulnerable whenever they talk about him, and not feel this way.
Now he sees why so many of the girls at school talk about him—why all of their
friends want to be around him so badly.
And... and it's not like he'd go for someone like Kanji, probably. He's just
some punk bruiser, running around causing trouble, playing with crafts in his
free time. What's there to really like about him? Hasn't Souji already expended
enough effort being kind to him, becoming friends with him?
It seems hopeless. He doesn't want to think about it, so he curls up on his
futon, pushing aside some scraps of fabric that had been leftover from making
the bunnies for those kids.
Man... I'm gonna have to get over this soon. I can't stop being friends with
him. I can't lose him. How do you force yourself to stop liking someone?
His thoughts are still racing, even when he has his eyes closed. Angrily, he
thumps a fist against the side of his head, but that just makes his ears ring
and his head hurt, so he pushes his hands over his ears instead, as if that'll
keep his thoughts from being heard.
After a while, he manages to fall uncomfortably to sleep. It isn't until he
feels a gentle touch upon his forehead that he jerks awake, sitting up and
nearly headbutting his mother.
"Kan-chan, are you alright?"
"Huh? Uh... y-yeah. I'm fine. What's up?"
She smiles, shifting her legs so that she can sit closer to him. She might seem
so small and frail to look at, but she's really strong. And she's so kind. He's
really lucky to have her.
"Sou-chan brought some soup. He said you ran away from him earlier, and he was
worried about you. But you seemed like you didn't want company, so I told him
you were feeling ill again."
Kanji just looks up at her, bewildered. Of course she's got that intuition,
but...
"Ma... why'd you do that?"
"Should I not have? I'm sorry, dear..."
He shakes his head abruptly, sitting up and taking her hands in his. They're so
small—his hands engulf hers easily. "No, I mean... you were right. To do that.
I just mean... how'd you know I wanted to be alone?"
Her smile softens a little bit more, maybe sadly. "Remember when you were
younger? There was a little girl, about your age, and you did a favor for her
because you've always been a sweet boy... and you were so excited to do
something for her. But all of her friends made fun of you, and... maybe it was
after that that you started withdrawing."
"What's that got to do with it?" Kanji asks, confused.
His mother laughs, patting his head gently. "You had a crush. It was obvious.
It's still obvious."
"Wh-what? I haven't seen her since elementary school..."
She shakes her head, stroking down the back of his head and around to his ear
to jingle his earrings lightly. When he got them, he'd thought she would be
so disappointed in him. But she'd just dealt with it, like every other silly,
rebellious thing he'd ever done. "Not her, dear. Sou-chan."
"I... what?"
"You don't have to pretend in front of me," she says, and her voice is so soft
it almost sounds paper-thin. "I only ever want what's best for you. I only want
you to be happy. And I know that he's the first person in a long time that's
really made you smile. You look at him like he's a treasure."
He's embarrassed, glancing away from her awkwardly. He hadn't thought today
would result in him coming out to her—although she'd known before. He'd told
her that night when he was finally rescued, had come right home and apologized
to her and hugged her so tightly, and he'd told her that there were things
about him, things that might seem strange, but he wanted to accept them. And
she'd told him she would help however she could.
But now she knows there's someone. And it's Souji. He can barely accept that
himself just yet.
"Take your time. If you never tell him, that's fine too... but I know he
wouldn't hurt you. And I think if there's a chance you could make each other
happy, you should take it," she says, kissing his head before rising up. "Come
downstairs and we'll have some soup when you're ready."
He nods. For a long time, he sits in bed, trying to sort himself out. He's not
ready to make a move just because she encouraged him, but he's starting to
settle. And maybe someday he won't be so scared. Maybe someday he will be
worthy.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Souji's policy these days steers heavily on the side of thinking the best in
people—believing that fundamentally, they want to be good, that there's
kindness and hope in them, and it's helped him a lot to remember that everyone
he passes is three dimensional, with stories and problems and quirks to
themselves, because he used to worry that so much of what pushed people away
was something that was wrong with him.
Maybe it was a strange kind of importance that he allowed himself to have. It
wasn't as though he thought he was the center of the world, or that people
intentionally set out to hurt him... but it had changed him over the course of
the years—thinking that if he wanted to have friends, then he had to try
harder, sacrifice parts of himself, do everything they wanted of him.
And still, it had never brought him any kind of luck. So many times he'd been
pushed away, by his own family, even—taught that until he lived up to
expectations, he wasn't worth a second glance, and even then, he felt alone.
Deprived. It had affected his concept of relationships as surely as knowing
that he'd never been wanted in the first place. But he's trying to look at
things in a better light.
It's just that he feels like he's been suspicious of people and their
intentions forever. Before this, it had been so easy to think that they weren't
worth fighting for, that relationships were just fundamentally too complicated
for him to ever be proficient with—and it still feels new and kind of strange
to not wonder why it is that his friends want to be around him, or why Dojima
and Nanako have accepted him without any strings attached. Their affection has
never been conditional. It's downright jarring, to the point that he overthinks
it constantly.
Regardless, things are better this way, even when he's terrified that he's
going to lose it all at a moment's notice. It feels nice to let people be
people, to realize that they're not perfect, but that they do want to be good.
He hadn't realized how much the suspicions held him down until now, how it
stopped him from taking the chances he could have. Never before would he have
approached people out of the blue and spoken to them, struck up
friendships—never before would he have thought it'd get him anywhere.
But he has friends. For the first time in his life, he has real,
actual friends, and he's always doing his best for them, trying to balance his
time between them properly—though he's noticed biases. It's bound to happen;
he's not used to this kind of sudden popularity.
Yosuke is his best friend, of course; he gets a decent chunk of Souji's time,
but Dojima and Nanako get him when he's home, and they're his family, so of
course he gives them the greatest portion. Chie, Yukiko, and Ai, too—he hangs
out with them a lot, but it's just because there's something in each of them
that resonates in him, and not because he has feelings for them, like he's been
teased about multiple times before now.
And Kanji. Kanji's a unique being in Inaba, a little bit different from
everyone else, and while Souji likes being around everyone, it's Kanji's aura
that stands out to him so much of the time; he's calming, a neutral presence
despite his appearance—which Souji has never really taken into consideration
when thinking about him before. He's special, someone Souji trusts absolutely,
and at times it feels like he's got it a bit more together than everyone else.
More than Souji, at least.
It's hard to explain what it feels like, being with Kanji. There's not a
desperation to spend every moment as fully as possible with him—no urgency to
pretend they've done things that are worthwhile. It's at a slow, measured pace,
which, more than anything, really assures Souji that Kanji is in it for the
long haul.
Or so he'd thought, for a while. But things are changing lately. Before, Kanji
would get so excited to see Souji that he'd trip over himself to come out after
school, but now it's like he can't turn away or come up with an excuse fast
enough. Souji's been racking his brain, trying to figure out what he could have
possibly said or done wrong—and it's the same old habit as it always was,
picking himself apart, trying to find the portion that's undesirable, that
needs to be eliminated.
He knows it's not right to do that. It's not right for him or for Kanji to
question this on his own, to come to conclusions that likely aren't right. The
truth is that it's probably nothing to do with him. There's a million things
going on in everyone's lives that he knows he's not privy to, and he can't
spend every second of every day with everyone. Besides, he doesn't expect them
to know everything about him, or to know these things without asking.
It's just a little disheartening. He'd considered Kanji to be almost as close
to him as Yosuke, but maybe that doesn't go both ways? Maybe he'd done
something wrong, maybe he wasn't good enough despite how much time and effort
he spent on opening up and making himself available. Kanji's always insisted on
learning about him, too—maybe the truth is that he's boring and too closed-up
to be around. Or maybe there's someone else for Kanji, someone better, closer.
He can't stop his mind from going on those tangents, and it worries him. It
makes him feel broken, because it keeps happening no matter how positively he
tries to think, or how much he assures himself that Kanji isn't like that at
all. How much would he really hate Souji if he could see the kinds of things he
came up with in his own head?
So he's stopped asking to hang out as much. It's getting too hard to be turned
down each time he approaches Kanji—it only makes him more sure there's
something's wrong with him that makes Kanji not want to be around him, and
it'll be easier to let him take his time, to come around when he's ready, if he
wants to. He hopes it happens soon. It feels lonely and painful being without
him, not that he's going to say that; it'd be too troublesome.
The past week or so, he's started taking the long way home, finding it calming
to pass the Samegawa and go down by the riverbank sometimes. People tend not to
hang out down there; it's either part-time jobs, homework, or off to Okina for
the majority of his classmates, and he takes advantage of the alone time when
they're not around. In the city, there weren't places like this—no pockets of
calm where he could be outside and still relax. It's nice.
For the most part, he's never bothered on his walk, stuck entirely in his own
world with only the rush of water in his ears. But on this particular day he
sees a flash of bleached blond hair down by the riverside, and Souji hesitates.
Should he approach? Would it be worth it? Kanji seems so preoccupied right now
that there's a chance he might start up a conversation before he fully realizes
who he's talking to, but then again, he might also just brush Souji off.
He ends up making his way down the stairs and over to the riverbed, and once
he's in earshot, he speaks cautiously, not wanting to scare Kanji off. "Hi."
Kanji jumps, though, whipping his head around and then quickly averting his
eyes when he realizes it's Souji. "Hey, senpai. I was just about to leave."
Souji's heart goes into freefall, feeling a painful jolt as it hits the bottom
even though he'd expected it, and his smile stutters. He should just let Kanji
go if he doesn't want to be here. It's clear enough that Souji's the one
scaring him off time and time again.
It used to be that he wouldn't say anything, but now he's speaking before he
can really sort out his thoughts, phrases tumbling out naturally that would
have never even been in his arsenal just last year. "I don't want to hold you
up if you don't have time... but you know if there's something going on with
you lately, I want to be there for you, right? You don't have to isolate
yourself from us. We're your friends."
He's saying these things. But what he really means is that Kanji doesn't have
to isolate himself from him, because he seems just fine around everyone else.
It's only Souji that gets this sort of treatment. And maybe Kanji's just
getting over him. He knows all too well what it's like to be the interesting
new kid, only for people to lose interest as they get closer.
"Yeah... totally. Of course, senpai." There's something about the hunch of his
shoulders that reads as guilt, and he sighs as he finally forces his eyes to
meet Souji's. "I was just down here thinkin' about things."
"Like what?" Souji asks. He's careful, not wanting to pry overly much and turn
Kanji off again.
"Uh... just things. Nothing big."
Souji's lips are tight as they smile, and he nods. He knows he has no right to
want to be Kanji's confidante, let alone anyone's... but he'd gotten so used to
talking to him with ease, and now he's keeping it close to his chest. Is this
how it comes off when Souji has so much trouble talking about himself? Because
it's not like he can help it... Something just shuts down inside of him.
Letting people close isn't second nature to him. It's a struggle.
"Hey, mister!" comes a call from the top of the stairs. The kid that Kanji's
unofficially taken under his wing; Souji's gotten fairly used to seeing him
around, and it comforts him a bit to know that Kanji's going to want to speak
to him, and that for a little while at least, he'll probably be happy, having
something to focus on that isn't Souji.
He never interferes when they're talking. Kanji can handle this, and it's
actually become his thing, anyway. He must have a soft spot for the kid,
somehow, if the way his face gentles and creases in sympathy is any indication.
So Souji keeps back, waiting for them to sort things out, almost amused that
Kanji acts so flustered that people would want his work. He puts so much effort
and heart into it, after all—it's clear to see, even though he tries so
desperately to hide it, because for some reason he thinks it's shameful. But
that's not for Souji to judge.
When the kid runs off several minutes later with a smile on his face, things
are silent and awkward between them still. And Souji's gotten used to brute-
forcing his way through moments like this, but he's still hesitant.
"He really seems to appreciate you," he eventually decides on, feeling as
though he's fallen somehow short.
"Yeah..." Kanji says. He's silent for a minute, and Souji wonders if
he should just give up and go on his way, but then Kanji speaks again. "I
haven't felt like it was worth it to help people like this in a long time."
He's making some effort to speak with Souji, at least, and with a sense of
relief, he leaps upon the opening for conversation. "Have you always made
things to give away?"
"Nah... s'not like that. There was this girl in elementary school with me.
Actually, mom reminded me of her the other day." A sour, pinched look comes
over Kanji's face that nevertheless makes Souji smile. "I fixed something for
her in school, but all of her friends made fun of it for me, and... I dunno. It
hurt, because I liked her, and I wanted to do something that would make her
happy."
"I'm sorry," Souji says quietly, a sympathetic look tilting his features,
because even though he really has no idea what liking someone and wanting to do
things for them feels like, he knows what it is to want to please others, only
for it to crash and burn.
And he knows he has to push. He really always has, when it comes to
Kanji—because Kanji's not satisfied with his secrets and his silence; he wants
to know Souji, or at least he used to want to, and Souji's starting to wonder
if it might really be okay to let him know. Maybe this is what's wrong: maybe
Kanji is fed up with his reticence. It wouldn't be the first time.
In schools prior to this, he was always labeled the mysterious transfer
student—and while that might have seemed thrilling to people at first, it
quickly became a roadblock in any attempts to make a connection deeper than
'acquaintance.' Mysterious was all well and good. Secretive was not. Cool and
quiet was good. Close-mouthed and withdrawn was not. He went from desirable to
spoken of in sneering whispers, and for those years, it was fine with him. He
didn't want people to become too interested in him. It'd hurt too much when he
left.
But it's different here, isn't it? Because he thinks he might be someone to
them. He makes a difference, probably. They count on him, and he's thinking
he's finally found something he can really do, something that makes
him special and not just some transfer student whose parents' jobs have time
and time again taken precedence over him.
He's always had to bully himself into thinking that was okay. It was just a
matter of being the unwanted son—he'd always have to compete with the things
more important to them, and he couldn't be upset when he didn't win out.
Because from the beginning, he should have known that he's not what they
wanted. Very rarely is he what anyone wants.
Still, Kanji has acted eager to know about him before. So he can at least try
to say the things that are hard to say, even though they seem uninteresting and
damning. Do any of them even know what an unremarkable, friendless loser he was
before now? That all of this is new to him? Because they sure don't act like
there's anything weird and off about him.
With hands fidgeting together, he speaks. "I never really had crushes or
anything."
Kanji eyes him, then glances away; Souji can't really tell if he's wary or
annoyed. Reading people is hard; he's been trying his best, but he still thinks
he gets situations and people wrong sometimes.
Still, Kanji opens his mouth to speak after a few seconds, shaking his head in
something like defeat. "I haven't really had any since then, either. Maybe one
or two. They're pretty traumatic experiences, y'know? Sometimes it feels like
nothing's ever gonna pan out right."
"Why?"
"Just... circumstances and all. Sometimes you gotta wonder if the things you
feel are acceptable, or if they're just gonna get you in trouble. And then you
wonder if you'll screw things up if you say something. Or if you're worthy of
that person, y'know?"
Surprisingly, Souji understands the last part all too intimately, so he nods.
"Sounds like you've been thinking about it pretty deeply."
"Yeah. It's been on my mind a lot lately. I wanna do things right this time,
y'know?"
"Oh," Souji says. For some reason, he feels a little bit sad about the
implication that gives. "Do you like somebody?"
"Uh... I mean. I'm not sure."
So that is how he's been spending his time. Souji's happy for him—he's learned
how important it is to find someone that you really connect with. But he can't
help feeling a little disappointed all the same, as though he's being shifted
to the side. Logically he knows he's not less important, and it's not as though
he doesn't have other friends. But he feels this connection with Kanji
especially, and it hurts to think it isn't felt in return.
It's the perils of interpersonal relationships, the ones he consistently shies
away from so that he doesn't have to feel the pain, because it's better to be
alone than to feel like he has no worth to anybody, or worse, to have
it confirmed—and it's proof that no matter where he goes, he's always going to
feel like this.
"Hey, uh. I guess I should get going to Okina and pick up some fabric before
dark..." Kanji says, shuffling his feet.
He likes to think Kanji would have at least invited him along, before. But now
Souji nods and smiles, even knowing that it feels forced and utterly empty.
"Okay. See you around, Kanji."
===============================================================================
Inaba is nice during the period in late summer where the transition to fall is
being hinted at; the leaves on the trees lining the riverbank are beautiful
gradients of red and orange and yellow, dotted through with green, and the air
is shot with a pleasantly crisp edge. There's just this aura, too—a quiet, a
calm. Souji feels like it helps to clear his mind, to not think about anything.
Lately, he needs it, because there used to be days he reserved specifically for
spending time with Kanji, but now they're blank, and he ends up taking a lot of
long walks by himself.
Naoto has joined the team, and despite any previous friction between them,
she's proving to warm up quickly. As expected, everyone's welcomed her in with
open arms. It feels like things have finally filled out as they should be, and
Souji likes having her around. She's incredibly intelligent, makes some of the
leaps that they couldn't, and aside from all that, she's interesting and
pleasant.
But he's noticed things, too. It's the way that Kanji looks at her, and clearly
sticks by her throughout most meetings, and even when they're simply spending
time together. How he's always clearly so eager to talk to her, but gets all
flustered about it at the same time. And Souji thinks he's starting to get the
picture—Kanji is interested in her.
He knows he should help. He knows he shouldn't feel anxious about this, and
it's not that he's angry at either of them. If they end up together, then of
course Souji wants them to be happy. Maybe it's just hard, knowing that Kanji
doesn't trust Souji enough to just come out and tell him. He'd thought they
were close—but that just goes to show how wrong he can still be.
Or maybe the truth is that a part of him is jealous. Kanji's capable of these
feelings, and Souji wishes he could be, or that he wasn't scared to let himself
be. He's spent nights alone wondering what it would feel like to want someone
touching him or kissing him, and for some reason it's Kanji that he thinks of
doing those things—because Kanji wouldn't think he was strange, or shun him for
it. Then he has to stop himself, because it's not right to think of him like
that, not when he's so clearly interested in Naoto. And he doesn't trust
himself anyway. Maybe he's only thinking these things because he wants to feel
like Kanji wants to be around him again.
Saturday after school, his feet shuffle over the pavement, an emptiness inside
of him that has no business being there. How was he supposed to know it'd hurt
this much? Every attempt he makes to not care gets nowhere, and he's
just tired. Maybe he should turn around and go back home.
"Hey, senpai!"
He must be hearing things. But he turns, and Kanji's back at the gazebo with
the kid, a veritable mound of knitted dolls between them on the picnic table.
He has to really, really consider whether or not it's a good idea to go back to
them. Would it hurt to spend a little time with Kanji, even knowing that he's
going to be off somewhere else soon? It takes a good thirty seconds to finally
get his feet to move, turning his body and walking slowly back to the gazebo.
"Mom said I should at least give you some money," the kid is saying, and Souji
hovers to the side as they speak. "Here."
"I told ya, I don't need it!"
"But..."
"Hey, big bro!" There's the patter of small feet on the dirt, but Nanako is
soon bypassing him to stand by the table instead, marveling at the dolls laid
across it. Almost instantly, she's smitten, and when Souji pipes up to tell her
that it was Kanji who made them, he blushes and splutters and tries to pretend
they're nothing special, something to be hidden, until she breaks him down with
compliments.
And then she says, "I want to learn," and for the first time, Kanji's gaze
really slips over to Souji, looking at him intently. It's some form of relief,
because at least Kanji doesn't hate him so much that he doesn't want to look at
him.
"Well, uh... that okay with you, 'big bro'?" he asks, eyebrow cocked
sardonically on the last two syllables.
Souji smiles, something shaky and unsure as he nods. "It's fine. You can get
some stuff and come over to our house. I'll make dinner."
Kanji hesitates, but he nods too, once. "Yeah, okay. Hey, you two should head
home, okay? It's starting to get dark."
Nanako and the kid go off together, and Souji's not sure if they know each
other from school, but they seem to get along okay as he watches them, long
enough for them to disappear down the road. Maybe he's a little bit afraid to
turn back to Kanji, to feel that awkwardness that's always present in the
moments where they're alone.
"Senpai, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," Kanji
starts. He sounds like he's struggling, but still doing his best to keep his
voice steady.
Souji feels like he knows what's going to be said, if the tone of Kanji's voice
is anything to go by, and he tells himself that he wants to smile and be happy
for him no matter what. But the truth is that he doesn't know what he'd say if
he started talking about Naoto. He's just not experienced enough in those
things.
He puts on a smile, hoping it doesn't look too fake. "What is it?"
"Uh... lately I've been thinkin' a lot." Kanji's dragging his feet, hesitating
over each word.
"About what?"
"I... I gotta tell you something," says Kanji, but it takes him another minute
or so to really get going. When he does, the words burst free, perhaps
practiced, or perhaps just felt so strongly that they seem to fall into place
perfectly. "I'm really doing my best to be strong and all that, and I'm tryin'
to step up to the plate. Meeting my shadow... it made me realize I've gotta
change if I ever want to be that way, but I feel like I haven't gotten
anywhere..."
He grumbles, the silence full as if he wants to say something else, so Souji
stays quiet until he lets out a frustrated sigh and continues. "Even though
you've helped me so much, I feel like I'm exactly the same."
"You're not," Souji says softly. He hadn't expected this line of thought, and
the surprise is enough to make him forget his own troubles for the time being.
"Not at all."
"Yeah, but you don't know that. You didn't know me before."
"No... but I know you now. And I know you're strong."
Kanji sighs again. "I'm not... I'm not sayin' it right. I don't know how to get
you to understand, senpai."
"It's okay," Souji murmurs. Kanji seems so vulnerable right now, he can't help
but to keep his voice quiet and gentle, comforting. "Take your time, I'll still
be here."
"It's just really messed up. I thought I was making progress, but I'm not."
He's sure he's just parroting back lines from dramas, but no matter where the
advice comes from, it feels right when Souji says it. "You don't have to change
immediately... It takes time. No one blames you for that."
Kanji scratches rather furiously at the back of his head, shaking it at the
same time. "I gotta say it, senpai. I can't keep it all inside anymore, it's
too hard."
The way Kanji is acting, it seems like there's really something bad wrong, and
as much as he appreciates Kanji finally opening up to him, Souji's got to admit
he's wary, an unsettling bubble of anxiety sitting in his chest. "... What is
it?"
Kanji's face softens and crumples a little, and it doesn't help Souji's
worrying at all. He smiles, but it looks so broken, like he might cry—yet he
doesn't. "Senpai, I don't know if I can be around you anymore. There's really
somethin' wrong with me."
"No—what... what are you talking about, Kanji?" His own voice is breaking in
return, terrified at the thought that Kanji might leave him. He knew there was
a possibility that he just didn't want to be friends anymore, but being
confronted with it? And he'd been trying so hard to separate himself just in
case, but he can't let go. He can't really lose Kanji, not after he'd opened up
so much already.
"You've really helped me out a lot. You're stronger than you know, and I know I
can always look to you for a role model, but... I think I gotta become strong
some other way. I can't be like you. I'm not that perfect," says Kanji.
"What are you talking about?" he asks urgently.
"I... senpai, I think I'm in love with you."
Souji's mind goes utterly blank. He can't breathe, can't think this through
properly. Had he even heard right? Surely that's not what Kanji meant...
Because he's been avoiding Souji all these weeks, and looking at Naoto like
that, and... there's no way.
Belatedly, he forces a single word out. "What?"
"I've been thinkin' about it a lot and I just... I like you. I can't stop
thinking about you."
"But... I thought you liked Naoto," Souji says—smart response. He just can't
sort any of his thoughts out right now at all.
Confused, Kanji leans back, away from Souji. "Huh? I mean, she's cool and
everything, but I don't like her like that."
"I don't understand..." he whispers. Something inside of him is warping and
wrong, and he can't even meet Kanji's eyes for more than a few seconds.
But when he does, Kanji looks disappointed. Souji knows he's messing all of
this up, the same as he knows he's not worthy of this—that even if he had
processed any kind of real, sure feelings for Kanji, he still wouldn't be
willing to act on them. That just wouldn't be right, to put all of his issues
onto someone else. And what if it ruined their friendship? He's got to go home
in a matter of months; he couldn't possibly leave someone behind when he was
dating them.
The thing is that Kanji is kind and considerate, and Souji thinks, from an
unbiased point of view, that he's attractive—every little part of him, from
looks to how hard-working he is, to how much he cares for his mother, to
how dedicated he is... But he's never let himself have a crush, and all the
same, that's not enough to make something like this work. It's not enough to
make up for Souji himself.
People think he's got everything together, and they're absolutely wrong. Souji
doesn't; he just bottles everything up and hides it deep inside, keeping it
away from people because even if they did understand, even if it didn't annoy
them to see inside of him, they still wouldn't be able to help him. He's the
only one that can do that, and he knows it'll take time and maybe a miracle to
ever become someone as strong as they think he is.
He can't hurt Kanji, though. He can't say that he doesn't feel anything at all
for him; that'd be a lie.
"Senpai?" Kanji's clearly less enthusiastic about this now than he'd been
earlier; Souji feels faint to look at him, unsure what he's supposed to do.
So he bolts before he can even think the movement through. He leaves Kanji
behind, running as fast as he can, and he doesn't know why he's doing it,
because he's sure it's just going to mess things up even more... But he can't
do this. He can't tell Kanji why he's not a good choice for this, why he'd just
end up ruining it anyway. He can't give Kanji any kind of hope. Maybe it'll be
better this way.
The scenery passes by him in a blur of golds and reds, the leaves slick
underfoot, but they never stop him from pounding down the pavement. His lungs
are working hard, each breath heaved out and the muscles in his legs straining
as he moves—but there's a freedom to running like this. If only he wasn't
running from his problems.
To tell the truth, he's not really watching where he's going as he sprints
through the shopping district, ears still straining to hear if Kanji might be
following him. At this time of day, there's few people around—but he still
manages to knock into someone by a thin margin, and he apologizes rapidly,
barely noticing the woman clutching a microphone and giving him a worried look.
"Sir...? Are you alright?" she asks, and he nods, panting.
"In that case, could I ask you a few questions?"
At this time? It all seems so absurd, and he he shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I
have to get back home."
"Oh... alright."
He doesn't fully hear her out before he's running again. It's harder to start
up when he just wants to drag his feet and slowly sink down to the ground, give
up on everything for the time being—but he doesn't let himself stop moving
until he's back at home, standing in the entrance and trying desperately to
catch his breath.
He should calm down and call Kanji, he knows, but he doesn't have the slightest
clue what to say yet, so in the meantime he goes to take a shower, and by the
time he's done, he needs to start on dinner, and he keeps putting it off.
But it's exhausting even to think about. He's been confessed to a few times
before—always by people who don't really know him, whereas Kanji does. It's
different this way. Harder. There's something here to ruin, and his problems
are flipping from one page to another. In the end, it's just easier to go to
sleep and hope he can figure it out later.
===============================================================================
It's a struggle to awaken. Souji's groggy, like he is when he takes cold
medicine that's supposed to help him sleep, and his limbs don't want to work
properly when he goes to move them. Even trying to sit up is difficult. His
mind feels like it's clogged. Something is completely and undeniably off.
There's darkness around him, a surreal kind: not like nighttime darkness, but
pitch black—so dark it nearly has a sound, ringing in his ears blankly as he
tries to gain his bearings.
How did he end up here...? He tries to remember, but there's an empty place in
his mind between when he left school on Saturday and now. It makes his head
hurt to think too hard about it, except just laying there, he remembers a faint
trace after a while, an embarrassed memory floating back of Kanji confessing to
him, and himself running away. And after that, at home, he'd...
"I looked at the phone and thought about calling him, and I kept deciding not
to—the same reason I ran away. Because I'm a coward," says an eerie voice, too
similar to his own, but distorted through with something like static.
And the room fills with a few solitary beams of intensely focused light. It's
the spooky, flickering light of a television where the signal isn't strong
enough—sometimes getting it right enough that a picture and a snippet of sound
can be heard, and then fading away into white noise again.
"I'm a coward, and I'm worthless. I can't even tell any of them how important
they are to me, because I can't give them that power over me! It's just hollow
compliments and pretending like I know anything at all about having friends
until I leave!"
Souji lifts his head slowly, and though he's been expecting it and dreading it,
he still cringes when he sees some horrible version of himself seated atop a
stack of old analog televisions, yellow eyes aglow and a cruel twist to the
mouth that would never be at home on him.
"So I'm just going to let them think that none of them mattered, just like
everyone did to me, forever! Because it's easier to go home and forget about
them than it is to try! It's easier to force them back out!"
He's too weak to shake his head; it's probably a lucky thing, because even
knowing the consequences of this, he feels shocked into not wanting to accept
what's being said to him. It's too harsh a mindset to agree with, and
he's sure that's not what he really feels... He's not that much of a coward, is
he? He's not that cruel.
The televisions shift images, displaying blurry silhouettes, their faces marked
out with large red crosses. "I don't want to feel anything for anyone, because
that'd get in the way of me pulling through life without pain! Even though I
hate being alone, I'm still trying to push everyone away!"
"No," Souji whispers, his whole body seeming to ache with the effort.
"And Kanji? I'm just going to avoid him until he hates me for what I did!
Because it's easier this way!" The shadow is practically hissing at him now,
stepping closer slowly and menacingly. Souji can't even move, wouldn't be able
to get away if he tried. Still, his eyes flick to the television and the way
it's showing an outline that clearly belongs to Kanji.
"No matter how much I'd want to try it with him, I'm a coward who can't go
after what he wants! I'd rather be alone than have to bother with all this
complicated stuff and end up getting hurt in the end! Besides, he'd figure out
how worthless and uninteresting I am after a little while!"
"No!" Souji says, louder. He loves his friends; he'd never think that about
them, he'd never—
"And I just pretend that I'll never have to leave, so that I can be with them
forever—but deep down I know, before long they're going to forget about me too!
I keep acting like I might get out of this without being alone in the end, but
I know it's not the truth!"
"Stop it!"
"I'm you," the shadow tells him. Another television flashes on in the
background, the image on both of them him.
Souji's glaring at the shadow, desperate to believe this is just some kind of
dream, that he'd been so stressed out by the whole Kanji thing that he's
dreaming this up, because there's no way—
"And you're me."
He shakes his head hurriedly, trying to push himself up and prepare to fight,
because this can't be him. He'd never be like this, would he?
"I'm pitiful and pathetic. Without them, I'd be nothing! They're the ones who
make me into anything special at all!"
The words hit him full-on, and he knows it's the truth.
"It's their attention that makes me stand up and do this. Leader?! They
couldn't have picked anyone less suited for the job!"
"I— I..." This is starting to become harder and harder to deny; Souji swallows,
willing his limbs to regain any kind of feeling, at least enough for him to get
up and stumble away.
There's a sudden crashing sound, the flickering static of the TVs wavering and
then buzzing out with an electric crackle. He jumps in shock, and then Kanji is
rushing in, shield raised.
This really has to be a dream.
"Senpai! You okay?!"
He nods slowly, and Kanji pulls him up on a burst of strength, heaving him up
to lean by his side.
"You gonna be fine if we fight this thing?"
Souji takes a deep breath, looking behind them to see the rest of the team
ready to spring into action. But it doesn't have to come down to that, he
knows. As much as he wants to deny it, he knows he needs to accept himself, or
else this is going to be much harder than it needs to be. Still, it's
embarrassing and frustrating to be seen like this. All this time they've
revered him as some beacon of strength, when he's not. So much of him is made
up of lies and tricks of the light, letting people see what they want to see
while keeping his true self hidden away. To have that finally broken down just
might destroy him.
But he can't lie like that forever, can he? Sooner or later, he has to
change—everyone else has done it, and now it's his turn. His agony over not
having a shadow has come to an end, and he has to be strong enough to accept
it. He has to be as strong as they think they are.
"You're me," he says, holding his head up high even when his legs are weak and
all of his physical strength is coming from Kanji's support. "And I'm you."
It's surprisingly underwhelming. The shadow fades away, then light bursts forth
to reveal Izanagi, but clad in pure white and gold—and Souji doesn't know what
it is he feels suddenly, but it's a sense of relief and tiredness and finality
all at once.
"Senpai, y'still with me?" Kanji asks, giving him the tiniest, gentlest shake.
"I'm here," he says. But he's feeling faint, his ability to stand close to
nothing at all, and the first step he tries to take with Kanji's assistance
doesn't get them very far at all before he sinks to his knees.
"Wrap your arms around my neck," Kanji instructs, and wearily, Souji does. He's
soon hoisted up against Kanji's back, strong and warm underneath his chest.
He doesn't know how much time passes, or if everyone's following them, or why
they're here. At one point, he thinks he murmurs that as a question, but it's
sleepy and slurring, and Kanji's answer doesn't remain in his mind for very
long.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs after some time. It's getting warmer and warmer, which
means they're probably heading toward sunlight, or something like that.
"Hey, you don't gotta apologize for anything, senpai."
"... Did you... see anything?"
Kanji's quiet for a few seconds, and his volume is kept low when he actually
answers. "All of it."
So at least he knows Souji's embarrassing secrets, if not everyone else. And he
supposes it's only fair, considering he knows everyone's, too... But he still
presses his face tight into Kanji's neck and goes silent, wanting to disappear.
===============================================================================
The next few weeks teach Souji just why recovery seemed like such a long
process with the other members of the team. It takes several days for his
appetite to return, even more for him to regain his strength and any sense of
normalcy. And accepting what he'd been through is harder than he'd thought it
would be.
He's taking it slow. Truth be told, he's a little bit grateful for the chance
to be alone, because there's a lot to think about suddenly; everything from
where he's supposed to go from here, to how he's supposed to handle
it without breaking down or giving up on his friends when he has to leave. On
top of that, he's embarrassed at the thought of them knowing his true self.
And that's not to start on Kanji, who's been forefront on Souji's mind now that
he's got all this time on his hands. He's still not sure he's got the courage
to get that deep into something, but he knows he needs to do better. Either he
has to tell Kanji flat-out why they can't have a relationship, or he has to
consider giving it a try.
It's an argument with himself that goes around endlessly in his head, giving
him moments of pure-eyed reckless hope, and then just as quickly, crippling
self-doubt. He's frustrated with himself, wishing he could make up his mind,
but by the end of two weeks, he's still just as confused as he was before.
It's hard being holed up in bed with little but his thoughts to keep him
company. Everyone has been texting him, perhaps guilty to know that he'd been
feeling that way all on his own for so long. And as unsettling as it is for
them to know now, he appreciates it. But it's still hard to work through all of
it. He's going to have to change so drastically—will they even be interested in
him by the time he's accepted himself, or will he be an entirely different
person to them?
At the end of the second week, he's finally managed to work his way up to going
on his long walks again. His legs are surprisingly sore, though he's not
actually sure what had caused it—unless it was some strange side effect of the
fog—and the walks help take the stiffness out of them, along with giving him
more time to think. But although he's well enough for this, he's not back at
school just yet. At the very least, Yosuke, Chie, and Yukiko have a rotating
schedule of bringing him his schoolwork, so he's been keeping up.
To tell the truth, he's feeling the cabin fever, constantly being at home with
nothing to do. He's caught up with about three different daytime dramas,
studied enough that his eyes ache, tended to the garden in the evenings, and
there's still too much free time on his hands. He's ready to go back to school
already, desperate to be given the okay.
In the meantime, he's sticking to his walks, the only thing that helps him to
feel like he's actually getting out and seeing people—winding around Inaba,
past the Samegawa and into the shopping district, and his heart always skips a
beat when he passes Kanji's house... but he hasn't seen him yet. In fact, he
hasn't really seen anyone but Chie, Yukiko, and Yosuke, and even those visits
have been brief. He's not sure if he's ready to face them, and they seem to
understand that.
But today's different. There's a couple police officers talking to Kanji
outside of Aiya, and upon seeing him, Souji is quick to leap forward, a little
faster than his tired legs can take. He lurches, terrified that he's going to
hit the ground and start this whole process all over again, but Kanji sets him
back on his feet so quickly it makes him jump. He hadn't even thought he'd
been noticed.
"Is something wrong?" he asks shakily when he's regained his balance, eyes
drifting from Kanji to the officers.
"We've got some questions," one of them says, and he sounds irritated, like
he's repeated this several times now. "Now if you'd just come with us so that
we can get on with it—"
"He hasn't done anything," says Souji. He surprises himself with the amount of
conviction he can hear in his voice, but he believes that, absolutely, even
though he doesn't know what these questions pertain to.
Kanji glances at him sidelong, a tiny, pleased smile on his lips. Souji smiles
back too, and something in his chest lifts abruptly, like he's gone over a
steep hill and is zooming down the other side.
"Hey, who's going to take your word for it? If you hang around with the likes
of him, you're probably up to no good too!"
"There's been lots of rumors of bullying going on around here lately," the
other officer says, his eyes firmly on Kanji. "And that you've been threatening
a kid around town."
Souji shakes his head. "Kanji's never threatened anyone. This has got to be
some kind of misunderstanding."
"Do you want to take a trip to the station too?" the first officer snaps.
"Senpai's got nothing to do with this!" Kanji yells, making a rather
intimidating and ill-contemplated gesture at them. Surely it's not going to put
him in their favor, but it has that effect on Souji, because despite
everything, Kanji wants to defend him. Even as awful as Souji had been when
he'd run away, Kanji still seems to respect him so much... and that hurts a
little bit. He should at least be angry with Souji, but no.
He's stewing in his worry, so it's probably some kind of miracle that the kid
walks up at that exact moment and sets the conversation on the right track to
having everything cleared up—and not long after, Kanji's mother is there too,
chiding the officers and defending Kanji with that firmness in her eyes.
Souji wonders what it's like to have a mother like that, to have someone who
would believe in him so fiercely and defend him so confidently. Really even
just a mother who would look at him, talk to him about things that aren't
expectations or plans to ship him off somewhere else. He doesn't begrudge Kanji
for having her; he just wishes that he'd ended up a little luckier himself.
It's easy to feel bereft like this.
"Sou-chan, come over for dinner tonight," she says, once the officers have beat
a hasty retreat, and that unexpected nickname still warms his heart, makes a
guilty little part of him feel special and cared for.
"Ma... I was gonna go to Aiya," Kanji whines, scratching the back of neck. His
eyes flick to Souji after a second, and he flushes. "If senpai wanted to come,
that is."
"Alright," Souji says, without giving himself the chance to lose his courage.
It's probably time to confront this situation head-on anyway.
She smiles at them, nodding. "Then I'll be at home starting on dinner. You two
don't eat too much."
"Fine..."
Together, they step into Aiya. At this time of the afternoon, business hasn't
gotten into full swing yet, and it's nice and cozy inside. They find a table
and sit down, calling over their orders, and it feels a little bit like old
times, if not for the knot in Souji's stomach.
"Senpai, you been doin' okay?" Kanji asks. He's not at all like he'd been in
the weeks prior to Souji's kidnapping, attentive and curious, focused entirely
on Souji. It'd be intimidating if he weren't so relieved.
"I'm fine," he says, intent on reassuring him in return, though the memory of
his unsteadiness that had caused Kanji to have to balance him just a few
moments ago might say otherwise. "I'm just a little tired still."
"I was really worried about you, y'know? That stuff is scary."
"It's going to be fine," Souji says—and for the first time while saying that,
he actually feels confident that it's the truth. Because whatever happens after
this, his friends want to stick by him. And he shouldn't be the cruel one, the
one who decides to think less of them just because they're miles away from him.
He can handle being without them, because being alone doesn't mean he's going
to be lonely. They'll still be there for him. They'll still care about him. And
he owes it to them and to himself to do the same in return.
"Yeah, I guess so." Kanji seems a little unsure; still, he accepts Souji's
answer with the same faithfulness as he ever has.
"Listen, Kanji..." he says, and something about his tone must alert Kanji to
what it is he's going to bring up, because he raises a hand and shakes his
head.
"Let's talk about it some other place, okay, senpai? I just wanna spend time
with you."
Souji nods slowly, even though the idea of leaving this to sit for too long
bothers him. It's not like he knows what he'd say, though... This whole
situation is bothering him, has left him uneasy for too long, and the encounter
with his shadow has made him rather urgent about fixing it, just in case.
But it can sit a little bit longer, he supposes, as long as they talk about it
eventually. He focuses on eating and listening to Kanji relaying things that
had happened at school and within the Investigation Team since the incident,
and he finds himself laughing and light-hearted, enjoying the quiet, gentle
atmosphere that surrounds them. There's just something nice about being around
Kanji; he's calm and accepting, understanding, so intent on doing anything and
everything that he can for his friends. Even if Souji weren't questioning his
feelings, he'd find Kanji to be someone worth admiring.
As it is, he's intently aware of each of his reactions to Kanji, from the way
he leans in closer to hear him, to the warmth flooding his body when Kanji
smiles. It's getting harder to deny that he feels something. And whatever it is
that they're doing right now, it feels oddly like a date. He's not sure how he
feels about that just yet, but as they pay and leave, Souji feels more and more
like he's on the very edge of some kind of precipice, and he's either got to
step off or... actually, he's starting to think there's no other option.
"You gonna come back and eat dinner with us?" Kanji asks, pointedly not looking
at Souji. He's probably so prepared for rejection, and that breaks Souji's
heart.
It's not just that which makes him reach out and take Kanji's hand on a surge
of bravery. It's everything; the comfort of knowing that Kanji doesn't hate him
after all, the relief that he's made it through and is ready to become
stronger, the fact that he does feel something. A pretty big something, now
that he's been forced to drop his barriers and stop pretending that it's
alright to let go of them.
Kanji's head whips around to look at him, eyes wide—it's like he thinks he's
dreaming, but he's not. And Souji smiles at him, a little shy, a little
hopeful—and Kanji squeezes his hand and smiles back, the lightest, softest
thing Souji's ever seen from him.
===============================================================================
Their relationship and interactions remain remarkably innocent and friendly
between that night and when they finally get a chance to spend time together
again later in the week. It's almost as though Kanji is afraid to make any move
before Souji okays it, and as thankful as he is for that, he's also so anxious
to really figure this stuff out that he feels a little bit sick to his stomach.
He never thought he'd want someone's company so badly.
They end up at the gazebo overlooking town, as has become their habit. The fall
leaves are particularly pretty from up here—they can look down over the entire
town and see nothing but a sea of gold and red, a sight that leaves Souji with
an ache in his chest, because he's come to love this place so much. It's
special to him; he has no idea what it's going to feel like to leave it behind.
"So, uh... I guess we can talk about, y'know... us, now. If you want," Kanji
says, gripping the railing. He's standing so close to Souji that he feels
tempted to touch, but it's bad enough that he held Kanji's hand last time. It
might have just confused him even more.
Souji doesn't know how to start. He's thought this moment through so many
times, and he's still got no clue what he's supposed to say or do. But he takes
a deep breath and starts speaking, doing his best to keep from blocking out any
part of himself that he'd usually try to fight down and hide.
"I do like you, Kanji... I've had a lot of time to think about it, and I've
been trying to be more truthful with myself since... since then," he says, his
hands holding tight to the railing to keep his balance. "I do, but I don't know
if that's okay."
"What do you mean, senpai?" Kanji asks. There's a look of excitement on his
face that he's clearly trying to fight down, but he's failing at it. "Why
wouldn't it be okay? I... I really like you too."
"I mean I don't know if it's okay because I'll be gone in a few months," he
says, and what he's got in mind to say next seems so difficult. It's hard to
talk about himself, to pretend he's interesting or strong. But maybe he's got a
little bit of the same problem as Kanji: to become strong, he has to lay
himself bare, first. "I've lived a lot of places, and if I managed to make
friends at all, they stopped bothering with me the second I left... All this
time I've been thinking it'd be the same here, and I could just stop caring
when I left but... I can't do it."
"So then what's the problem?" Kanji asks.
"If I'm gone, then what would that mean for you and me? Do you really want to
risk it knowing that we're not going to be able to see each other for a long
time? Because I know it's going to hurt me."
"Of course, senpai." He sounds like he hasn't got a doubt in the world, but
Souji can't see it like that.
"Don't rush into it, Kanji. Please. Don't say something you haven't thought
through." He's fidgeting, afraid that Kanji's answer is going to be 'no' after
all, now. It wouldn't surprise him, and he wishes he wouldn't let himself get
his hopes up all the time.
"I already thought about that kinda stuff," Kanji says with a hint of
exasperation, nudging against him just enough to jostle him slightly. "And I
know if I had the chance to be with you, I'd do anything."
Souji finds his cheeks getting hot, and he has to look away. He's not used to
people saying things like that to him. It's a weird warming, exciting feeling,
and he's smiling despite it all. "Really?"
"Yeah... senpai, I might have only had three crushes in my lifetime but I've
always been scared to say something about them, until now. You were the one who
taught me to have courage, and it's only right to do as good as I can for you
in return."
Souji coughs, covering his mouth and looking away again. Kanji can really be
unexpectedly... cute, sometimes.
"But you know I didn't have any courage. You saw what happened there, with my
shadow."
Kanji nods. "Yeah. But nobody's invincible. It was wrong of us to expect you to
be."
He's being so understanding about all this—like it really isn't any big deal,
what Souji's shadow said. Souji doesn't understand how that can be possible,
not when it said all those horrible things, not when it laid him so bare. How
can Kanji want him, even knowing what his true self is? But that stubbornness
gives Souji some kind of hope, that maybe they will be able to work this out.
"So you want to try it, then?" he asks nervously.
"Can I?"
"... Yeah."
Kanji smiles and leans in, the couple inches he has on Souji forcing him to
look up. "Hey senpai, you wanna go out with me?"
Souji laughs, still flushed and dazed as he nods his head. "Yeah."
And Kanji leans in, so slow that he could stop him if he wanted to, but he
doesn't. Their lips brush together, the tiniest point of contact that soon
deepens into a little bit more—firm presses of their mouths and their gentle
exhalations—until Kanji pulls back and smiles at him giddily.
Souji feels a lightness inside, a blooming of hope, looking at Kanji. It's not
that he thinks this is going to fix all of his problems. On the contrary, it's
sure to make more. But the point is that Souji's making an effort, that for the
first time in forever, he's taken a step forward into treacherous territory,
and there was a hand reaching out on the other side to grab him and pull him to
safety. A smiling face to meet him, telling him it was worth it. And it is.
He lets out a breath that he's been holding forever as Kanji wraps an arm
around his waist, pulling him in and sighing against the top of his head. And
like this they welcome the night, standing atop the hill and looking down on
Inaba, the closest to home that Souji's ever felt.
===============================================================================
They haven't flat-out said it to the Investigation Team, but it's probably
pretty obvious with the way they're suddenly holding hands and hovering around
each other all the time. And Souji finds that he's not so worried about them
knowing—not even Yosuke, who has kind of a history with these sorts of things.
It's natural, it's right; Souji feels that utterly.
Still, neither of them really know how these things work. They're in an awkward
stage, in which they're always checking to ensure they haven't made any
missteps, and they've not gone past a few chaste kisses and handholding, going
to Aiya for their small, secret dates or watching movies together and eating
over at each other's houses. Most of it consists of talking.
Souji's glad for the slow start, because he's feeling his way around in the
darkness, and at times it feels less as though they're dating and more as
though this is just an even more intimate friendship. And then the kisses
happen, and that strange feeling in his chest erupts, and the thought of Kanji
makes Souji so giddy that he worries something's wrong, and he knows it's more.
So things are serious, but quiet. Souji's not sure if Kanji's mother has caught
on, either; she acts the same toward him as she always does, smiling and
calling him Sou-chan and doting on him a little bit, though there's newer
developments, such as the way she makes herself suspiciously absent whenever
they go up to Kanji's room, and the occasional short looks they share that end
with a wink from her. And he doesn't think he should be scared—but he still
feels a little bit strange about it. Are parents supposed to know? Because he
hasn't told Dojima... Can they just guess?
"Did you tell your mom about us?" Souji asks carefully one night, when they've
finished eating dinner at Kanji's and he's walking Souji back home. It's the
same walk as always, the only difference being that their hands are carefully
tucked together between their sides.
"Huh? Not yet, nah. Why?"
"I don't know... I think she knows about us," says Souji, and then, uneasily.
"I don't want her to disapprove."
Kanji's got a confused look on his face as he speaks, brows creased deeply.
"... Ma? She's the one that told me to go after you in the first place."
Souji's head whips around, eyes wide and startled. "So she does know."
"... It's complicated. That day I ran away from you, she came up to my room and
talked to me for a little while... I guess mothers do know best."
That softens Souji, but still. What's he supposed to do about all of this? He
doesn't want to keep it a secret, but there's something almost embarrassingly
intimate about allowing people to see that he's in a relationship, that there's
someone he cares for this deeply.
"Do you want her to know?" Souji asks.
"... It's up to you. I mean, I want her to know eventually... but if you're not
ready yet, that's fine too."
It's still hard to get over just how considerate Kanji is all the time. Souji
thinks he must be pretty lucky, if he has someone that's so consistently
supportive and giving. He really has gotten strong—and Souji feels honored. He
squeezes Kanji's hand, and Kanji squeezes back, and he feels so happy just to
have gotten here at all.
In short, everything between them is good and comfortable, but Souji's sure
this isn't all there is to dating. It'll come with time, he knows—it's just
that until then, he feels anticipatory, waiting for these new elements to
introduce themselves. Things like saying 'I love you,' laying in bed together
just to fall asleep, making decisions, becoming cohesive—he's waiting on those.
But of course there's far too many moments where he's sitting up in Kanji's
room with him too, the both of them pressed together on the bed and talking
quietly, where proximity is enough to make him feel a little bit wild with
desire. It's not that he needs those sorts of things, and he definitely doesn't
want to do all of that with Kanji unless he really wants it too...
But he finds himself thinking about it sometimes, nevertheless. And wondering,
what it would be like.
He never really realized what it would feel like to be dating someone; there's
always this underlying desire to be around Kanji, to talk to him—they're always
texting each other, they talk on the phone before bed, meet before school, they
walk home together... and it feels good. Special.
He needs Kanji to know that, and it seems silly, but he's been working on
something for him—something knitted, because he's picked it up on the nights
where Kanji comes over and sits with Nanako, intently showing her how to do it,
just like he'd promised her he would. It's a lumpy little tiger: the animal
that reminds him of Kanji, for whatever reason. He hadn't questioned it
much—he'd just looked up a pattern online and then gotten to work, he and
Nanako knitting together for an hour or so every night as they watched TV,
neither of them any real good at it yet... but it's nice. It's nice that
Kanji's bothered to teach them, so they do it.
He takes a little while to finish it, and the truth is that he's nervous. It's
probably only cute in an endearing way, its little black button eyes slightly
lopsided, its embroidered mouth not perfectly neat. But he's worked hard on it,
and as nervous as he is, he does want Kanji to have it.
The right time comes a little bit before the month mark of their relationship,
Souji idly asking if it'd be okay if he came over after school at the end of
the week, and Kanji had suggested he sleep over, and so that's another thing to
be nervous about it.
All the same, it's exciting. He's sitting up in Kanji's bedroom with a belly
full of tofu from dinner, surrounded by half-finished stuffed animals and
Kanji's bustling, and it's really just... pleasant. In every single way. When
they spend time together alone, it's never with the TV on in the background, or
anything but the two of them in the silence. The running theme is generally
that Kanji will ask Souji for a random fact about himself, and at first it had
been hard to do—he'd struggled with saying anything about himself, let alone
something that qualified as interesting. But it's getting easier. And when
Kanji tired of that, they'd talk about anything, or sit in the quiet, and
that's not a bad thing.
Tonight Kanji's leaning against the wall, legs under the covers of his futon
with Souji between his thighs, back leaned up against his chest, head resting
on his shoulder. As strange a position as it had been the first time,
this too is becoming normal. And he's gotten accustomed to the way Kanji's just
tall and filled-out enough to make him feel somewhat small. It's not a bad
thing either.
"Senpai... your hair smells like strawberries," Kanji says, after a while.
"We got new shampoo."
Kanji snorts against the back of his neck, stirring the hairs there ticklishly.
"It's weird to imagine Dojima's hair smelling like strawberries."
"Maybe if you get close enough, you can confirm for yourself someday," says
Souji with a soft laugh. He's so comfortable his eyes are falling shut, as if
he could fall asleep right here.
"Yeah, no. I think I'm fine the way I am."
"Suit yourself."
Silence settles between them again. Kanji's fingertips are drawing idle circles
over Souji's thigh, making him nearly shiver, and it's not a lie to say he's
anxious to see if that's going to lead anywhere.
"Speaking of hair... there was something I wanted to ask you," Kanji says,
breaking the silence once again.
"It's natural, if that's what you wanted to know."
Kanji splutters, his jaw knocking against the back of Souji's head and causing
only a moderate level of pain. "No, it's not that. I, uh... I was wondering if
you'd help me bleach my hair... the roots are growing out again."
"I've never done that before..." Souji says dubiously. He doesn't want to screw
this up—though he does note that for once, his mind isn't racing a mile a
minute, telling him that if he messed it up, that'd be the end of them, and
Kanji would hate him forever.
"It's not that hard. But if you don't want to..."
"I will," he says. It's not really a big deal, at any rate. How hard can it be?
"Can we do it now? It won't take that long, I promise."
Though Souji's comfortable where he is, he supposes the quicker they get it
over with, the quicker he can settle back in the same place, so he nods.
Together they get up and head into the bathroom, Kanji rummaging around in the
closet for something until he comes up successfully with a box of dye. From the
way he has it unboxed and mixed up so quickly, it's clear he's done this a good
number of times, and Souji stays back for now until his assistance is called
upon.
It happens pretty quickly, as it turns out. Though Kanji has apparently done
this all on his lonesome prior to now, he gets Souji to put on the gloves and
squirt the rather foul-smelling liquid into his hair, then rub it into the
strands. It's a strange process, and oddly close—Kanji sitting on the lid of
the toilet, shirt off to reveal the slight definition of muscles, his head
bowed close to Souji's stomach as he sifts through his hair.
"Am I doing okay?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah."
Souji can feel the exhalation of a single word through his own shirt, and it
makes him shiver. He's entirely aware of their positions, and maybe it's odd to
think that this is so intimate... but it feels that way.
Soon there's nothing left to do but wait, the both of them remaining where they
are as Souji anxiously awaits the results of his first try at this. And he's
not sure why, but he feels somehow pleased, smiling every time Kanji looks at
him—which just so happens to be a lot.
After the fourth time his smile gets wider, Kanji laughs awkwardly, his hand
going to rub the back of his neck, but he stops before he gets there,
remembering the bleach. "What are you smilin' about, senpai?"
"Nothing... I just feel really happy."
Kanji's face softens, that look he reserves solely for Souji, and he nods as he
looks down at his lap. "Yeah, me too. I was really glad you gave me a chance."
"It's not like that," Souji says, his voice lowering in volume. "I liked you. I
was just too scared to see it. And... actually, I thought you had a crush on
Naoto then, so I was even more scared to feel something."
"Huh? Naoto? I mean... well. I did a while back, but you were the one that..."
He trails off, rubbing the base of his neck now without care for whether or not
there's any bleach there. "I dunno. It felt like something heavy with you. I
thought if I screwed it up, you'd never wanna be friends with me again."
Souji shakes his head. "It was never your fault. I just had to grow up. And I'm
glad I did."
Kanji grins up at him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in
closer, even as Souji yelps and tries to hold his stomach away from Kanji for
fear of his shirt getting bleach on it. But Kanji just holds him where he is,
looking up at him happily.
"Hey, senpai...? Would it be weird to tell you I love you?"
For a second, Souji's heart seizes up in his chest. He doesn't think anyone has
ever really told him that before, his parents only a few times in his
childhood—and it's an odd feeling to hear it from someone who doesn't have to
say it, who has no obligation to love him or want to be around him at all.
Nobody's ever taught him what it's like to feel love before the Investigation
Team. It's in the small things, in the way Yosuke offers him a ride on his bike
if he seems too tired after soccer practice, or how Chie always chooses him to
practice with and buys him Aiya afterward, how Yukiko confides in him secretly
at the shrine and then ties an oumikuji onto the tree for both of them, how
Teddie cared for them so much that he wanted to rise above his past and help
them, how Rise follows him around like a puppy but also treats him with the
utmost seriousness and admiration, how Naoto has brought him along on
"missions" that may as well contain the majority of her childhood... how Kanji
never doubts him, always stands by his side, always wants to help, the way his
hands tremble a little when they touch Souji, full of reverence...
He takes a deep breath and settles his palms on Kanji's shoulders for balance.
It feels like the weight of his words are settling in his throat, but he pushes
them free. "I love you too."
Kanji looks so relieved Souji almost thinks he's going to start crying. "I'm
glad."
And though he feels raw and tender himself, avoidant of anything else that
might rub against that delicate little spot that's only ever felt pain in his
heart, he's still smiling.
"What about this...? Should we wash it out now?" he asks, gesturing to Kanji's
hair.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I, uh... I'm gonna hop in the shower. If you..." He makes a
motion, pointing at Souji and then at the shower.
"... Do you want me to?"
"Yeah."
Souji starts to strip down, not particularly self-conscious per se—he's too
used to this part from soccer to really worry about that. But there's something
strange about being seen naked by someone for the first time, and he feels that
now as he takes off his shirt, then his pants, and finally his underwear,
making sure to avoid looking at Kanji all the while, though he's already
stripped fully and gotten in the shower.
By the time Souji joins him underneath, Kanji's hair is soaked and he's running
his hands through it, trying to get all the stuff out. It makes Souji laugh a
little, which Kanji grumbles at.
"What're ya laughing at?"
"You look like you're in a shampoo commercial."
Kanji poses provocatively, one knee cocked inward and his chest pushed out,
back arched as he tosses his head back. It makes Souji laugh more, and he finds
that it's not so awkward when Kanji's acting silly.
Nothing really happens between them for the duration of their shared
shower—Kanji rinses his hair out while Souji washes up, and then they trade
places, and soon the two of them are sitting in Kanji's room, wrapped in
towels. It's not as odd as Souji thought it would be, but there's a tension.
He doesn't know how to ask for more. He doesn't know if it's okay to ask for
more, and his worry must show in his posture, because Kanji knocks against his
shoulder lightly in question.
"What's up?"
"It's nothing. Just thinking," Souji says. He should probably get up and get
dressed—it's awkward to sit here like this.
Except Kanji leans in and kisses him, the same way he always does—slowly enough
that Souji could push him away if he wanted to. He never does though, always
kisses Kanji back with a hint of eagerness.
Prior to this, the meeting of their lips has always stayed remarkably innocent,
but Souji's feeling particularly bold suddenly, and he presses closer, parting
his lips and encouraging Kanji to seek for more. It seems almost surprising to
him by the way he hesitates, but he pushes his tongue inside, and maybe it's
awkward at first. Neither of them seems to know exactly what they're doing, yet
Kanji still presses Souji back into the covers and leans over top of him,
kissing him harder.
Souji feels somehow desperate for it. A month of nothing but simple kisses and
handholding has done wonders for even the darkest corners of him, so he
hadn't thought that he'd want anything more. It's always felt like enough, but
now that he is getting more, he's not at all displeased.
"Senpai, can I...?" Kanji asks, pulling back from his mouth with a dazed look
on his face.
Whatever he's going to ask for, Souji's already nodding his head, and Kanji
slips down, peeling the towel away from Souji's waist.
He's been hard for a little while, but he doesn't think he's too worried about
feeling any embarrassment when Kanji's mouth is pressing tiny kisses against
his stomach, steadily getting lower until he's hovering over Souji's cock.
And then he bypasses it completely, pushing Souji's thighs up and back toward
his stomach, more kisses placed against the sensitive skin at the back. Souji's
not really sure what he's up to, but his breathing is picking up and he can
feel a hint of anxiety as he waits.
Then Kanji's tongue presses against his hole, and he lets out a sudden noise of
shock.
"Wh-what...?"
"Is it okay?" Kanji asks quietly, withdrawing from him.
Is it okay? No one's ever done anything so intimate to him before, and he's a
little bit jarred from the suddenness of it. But he knows he'll never know what
he prefers if he doesn't try it, so he nods his head slowly.
Kanji dips back down, his tongue slow as he licks over Souji, and he doesn't
really know how to describe the feeling. It's not necessarily unpleasant, but
neither is it doing much for him yet.
Still, Kanji takes his time, first licking at him, then using his hands on
Souji's ass to spread him open slightly, a finger pressing into him as he
continues to lap at him, and that's fairly nice. The steady pressure doesn't
feel too overwhelming... and then Kanji's tongue is pushing inside too, and he
gasps, arching up and squeezing his eyes shut.
"Still okay, senpai?" Kanji asks. There's a teasing lilt to his voice, and
Souji has to force himself to nod, his whole body feeling oddly stiff.
It's not long before he's got two fingers pushing into Souji along with his
tongue, and he's panting a little bit, covering his mouth and biting down on
his hand. The feeling of it is too much and not enough all at once, but he's
too embarrassed to ask for more.
So it's jarring in the best kind of way when Kanji suddenly flips him over onto
his stomach, his tongue going right back to where it was before, fingers
opening him up a little more roughly, and Souji moans. This is just enough,
holding him harshly on the edge, and he doesn't mean to, but he's arching back
against Kanji's mouth, biting his index finger and spreading his legs—and it
feels so shameless of him. What must Kanji even think?
That worry doesn't sit in him long, not with the way Kanji is pushing his
tongue into him and making his fingers claw at the sheets. It's hard to keep
himself from nearly drooling at the feeling, even as new to this as Kanji
surely is. His breathing is coming hard and his stomach is heaving like it's
too much, and it is. He can't keep it up, moaning and sighing, reaching back
and holding himself open for Kanji's tongue after a while because he needs more
so badly—
Kanji's hand wraps around his cock, stroking him slow and firm, and he doesn't
think he can take it much longer. He's a few steps away from being mindless,
nothing in his head but the catastrophic pleasure of this.
"Kanji, I want—please..."
Kanji pulls back suddenly, and he can't help the whimper of dissatisfaction.
He'd been pushing back against him so desperately, like he'd die if he didn't
get it, and now he isn't getting it. Of course he's dissatisfied.
"Don't do it yet, senpai," Kanji says. He's rustling around in the bedside
table for something, and Souji turns over slowly, his legs shaky, body woozy.
In his hand is a little bottle of lube, which he's opening up.
Souji takes it from him. "Let me do it, okay?" he asks quietly. Kanji nods, and
with that, Souji dabs some onto his fingers before wrapping them around Kanji's
cock. He's thick and warm in his hand, and Souji squeezes gently,
curious—making Kanji moan for the first time. It's pleasantly intoxicating, and
Souji can't wait to make him do it more.
He leans closer to kiss Kanji as he touches him, and it surprises him a little
when his fingers are back to opening him up, eased by the lube this time. From
there it's a natural progression for Kanji to settle him back against the
pillows and push his legs up, fingers withdrawing.
"Senpai, is it really okay if I do this?" Kanji asks. The look on his face is
pleading, and Souji nods before even thinking it through.
But it is okay. Time and time again, Kanji's proven that he's nothing but
gentle and careful, utterly patient and only interested in things if Souji is
too. And that makes him feel safe, makes him feel glad and so utterly floored
that someone like that could ever fall for someone like him.
Kanji eases into him slowly, never taking it too fast or too hard, stretching
Souji so gradually it feels torturous. He doesn't think he can take it for
long, not because of the pain, but because he's so desperate and right on the
edge of coming. He's sure he must look ridiculous, but Kanji is looking down at
him with half-lidded eyes, panting out breaths.
"Senpai... you look so good..."
Souji can feel the heat creeping higher and higher on his cheeks, and still,
the truth is that this makes him even harder, even more desperate.
"You okay?" Kanji asks.
Souji doesn't grace him with an answer. He just leans up and pulls Kanji down,
kissing him until they're both breathless and gasping against each other.
"It feels good, being with you," Souji whispers, and Kanji gasps as his hips
hitch up slightly into him. "I want it. I really want it, please."
Kanji's slow to start with, his eyes looking up at Souji every so often to
check on him. And Souji appreciates it, but he really just wishes Kanji would
hurry up with it, so he arches down to meet his hips, urges him on with a
wordless look, and soon he's got him moving.
At first, it's strange. Souji's never felt anything like this, and in more ways
than one, it's overwhelming: the intimacy, the heat, the sheer feeling of Kanji
being this deep inside of him. But the closeness of Kanji's body does wonders
for Souji's perception of this. He's sure with anyone else, it could be
awkward, and yet Kanji only whispers against his neck, bites down against the
soft flesh and sucks fervently, seeming entirely overloaded with no idea where
to go and what to do. It takes Souji's guidance every so often to remind him to
move his hips, and before long he's managed to get himself a fairly steady
pace.
And Souji feels wondrous at this. Kanji's stretching him open, his body
pressing Souji into the futon, and it's not a bad thing at all. In fact, it
feels good to be caged in by him, wholly covered—each of his movements bringing
their bodies together, and Souji's arms wrap around his neck as he stares up at
him.
Kanji's got those hard features, but in this moment, and in so many moments
this past month, they've softened into a myriad of different expressions that
Souji had never thought he'd see on him. His lips are parted now, eyes wide
like he's got to take everything in.
Souji swipes a hand across Kanji's sweaty forehead, smiling up at him. "Are you
okay?"
"Y-yeah... definitely."
"Don't worry about it too much, okay?" His words are coming a little bit harder
as Kanji thrusts into him, his hand wrapping around Souji's cock. "It'll be
perfect no matter what."
"I just... I just wanna make it good for you, senpai," Kanji grits out. His
hand tightens on Souji's cock and he seizes up, sure he's about to come—but
then, frustratingly, Kanji backs off again.
"You're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" he whispers frustratedly.
"Heh... you look all cute when you want to. It's not my fault I keep wanting to
see you like that," Kanji murmurs back. It's all well and good for him—he looks
like he's having the absolute time of his life.
Two more times he brings Souji right to the edge and then backs away, until
Souji's breathless and panting, fingers clutching at the sheets in an effort
not to reach down and just finish himself off already. That'd be selfish,
surely, but Kanji's got to be nearing the edge too.
"Come on," he whispers. "I want it, I want this. Kanji, please."
Kanji grits his teeth together, thrusting into Souji hard and wrapping his hand
around his cock, finally giving him release—and it's so intense that Souji's
toes curl and he arches up, crying out and having to stifle himself by burying
his face in Kanji's neck.
He feels adrift in his body, coming back so slowly that he doesn't realize
Kanji's moved until he feels a wet cloth against the insides of his thighs.
Then they're settled back down on the bed and Kanji lays beside him, curling an
arm around his waist.
"Was that okay, senpai?"
"Yeah," Souji breathes. He's absolutely wiped out, bone-tired and eyes halfway
shut.
They're quiet as they work through what just happened, Souji's face pressed
against Kanji's chest, their bodies wrapped around each other like a knot. And
it feels nice. He's never felt like this before in his life, so safe and
content and wanted. It's a good feeling.
"Are you gonna fall asleep?"
"No," he mumbles. His hand tightens on Kanji's arm, perhaps trying to reassure
himself that he won't do that just yet.
"Can I ask you something?" Kanji wonders after a little while. Souji's still
awake, but he's struggling.
"Yes."
There's silence, a considerate one, as if Kanji's figuring out how to word what
he wants to say. "... This isn't just for now, is it?" he asks eventually, his
hand still on Souji's hip.
"What do you mean?"
"Like... commitment. Not like... not like marriage or anything, but all that
stuff your shadow said... you're not gonna forget about me when you leave, are
you? Because... I know I said I thought about it and all, but if it's gonna be
like that, I don't think I can keep doing this."
Souji shakes his head. "I wouldn't do that to you," he whispers into the
secrecy between them, where it's easy to talk, where he can't hide himself. "I
thought it'd be easier to let go of this the second I left, and it would be,
but just because it's easier doesn't mean it's right. It's not going to be
better for anyone in the long run."
Kanji nods. "Good, because I, uh. I like you. A lot."
"Really? I wouldn't have guessed," Souji says, and he sounds teasing, but the
truth is that it feels good to hear that no matter how many times Kanji says
it.
"Yeah. A whole bunch."
"I like you too," Souji confesses. Kanji leans down and kisses him, brief but
much deeper than their prior chaste exchanges.
"Oh... there was something I wanted to give you," he says when they part. His
limbs have resolidified from their bonelessness, and he sits up on a sudden
bolt of awareness, grabbing his bag from a few feet away. "But you have to
promise not to laugh."
"I promise," Kanji says, his tone confused.
With that confirmation, Souji digs through until he finds the tiger. Nothing
special or elaborate like Kanji could do, but he worked hard on it, and he
takes it out now and presents it to Kanji, whose eyes widen, lips parting with
shock.
Souji clears his throat awkwardly as the silence stretches. "I made it for you,
but... it's not all that cute."
"It's cute," Kanji assures him. He pulls Souji down against him again,
accepting the tiger into one large hand, and the other moves to pat its head
carefully. "It's real cute."
Souji smiles in relief. He hadn't realized so much was riding on the acceptance
of such a small token, but now, with Kanji's approval, he sinks into him
easily.
"It's been hard to put up with me, I think," Souji confesses, courage shooting
through him when he's in the confines of Kanji's arms. He's hoping he's gotten
better with talking about himself, but even now he kind of wants to stop where
he is and not continue. And Kanji leaps to speak, but he shakes his head. "And
I'm sorry for all the times I've confused you or that you've had to make me
talk... but it's helped a lot. I'm not used to people wanting to know me... I'm
glad it was you that taught me it was okay."
"Senpai..."
"Kanji... I'm saying thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Thank you," he whispers again as he settles deeper, kissing Kanji's cheek.
After some time, he murmurs a soft, "I love you," but Kanji seems to have been
the first to fall asleep, so he leans over to turn the lamp off, then draws the
covers up around them, covering Kanji and the tiger clutched in his hand. In
the warmth underneath, their bodies press together, perfectly tailored to each
other after so many instances of ripping out the stitches and resewing them
more neatly and strongly, the imperfections smoothed away with time and care,
and the closeness is a comfort he never thought he'd have until now.
Chapter End Notes
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End Notes
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