Chapter Text
Winter, Beginning 2016
The weather felt crisp. The snowflakes felt like icy kisses. Normally, to Tatsumi, Kanji, they would be a pleasant experience that made him stop and look at the lovely sky.
That was not the night for bullshit.
A year had passed since Tatsumi-san had passed. Cancer, was all he said. He never specified. Only those who regularly came to Tatsumi Textiles knew the full story. Hepatocellular Carcinoma is what she would correct to those who she was close with- at least when she was conscious.
Most of Kanji’s friends went to college or moved. He felt a wave of defeat when Yosuke and Yu confirmed they were sharing a dorm. Chie went off to the academy. Yukiko attended a business college program- community college, but still had the time to certify. While Rise decided to not attend, she did however begin her own idol agency, showing the ropes to the youngin’s who oughta take her place in the future.
Hell, even Teddy attended a foreign exchange program at the university… what a way to beat his ego.
In 2014, just as she began to ready herself for the big move to Tokyo, Kanji couldn’t help but feel that deep theoretical stab in the gut. It wasn’t that she didn’t know of his feelings. They were close, however not exclusive specifically for the reason of leaving.
It didn’t make it easier.
That 2016 winter night, Kanji leaned against the mortar wall of the Shiroku shop, his breathing labored and heartbeat beating in his ears. His vision was blurry, black, darkness surrounding his peripheral vision as he looked down to his gut. Blood pooled over his palms. Wasn’t smart to remove that knife.
He shifted from his side to his back. In a way, despite how awful the feeling felt, he quite welcomed it. Just a matter of time.
He slid to his rear, his eyes droopy. Everything was going very dark-
His hearing was muffled. He heard a faint yell of what sounded to be somewhat masculine, yet feminine at the same time. He recognized that voice. He recognized that looming figure above him, that fashion style of that evident wool coat.
An angel?
He blacked out.
The faint sounds of boops and beeps crescendoed, his eyes slowly opening. He sat up, looking around to get a feel of his surroundings. The hospital room was modernized with white walls, however of course Inaba Municipal Hospital always had less than private rooms, with shared spaces among strangers, however surprising to him, showed empty hospital beds around him.
However, he wasn’t alone. A familiar figure remained seated in the chair next to his bed, that familiar blue hat covering her vision. Over the years, her once blue wool coat turned into a black one, with white accents, while her trousers were a navy color. Her undershirt stayed white, as her tie was a black and white houndstooth. Shirogane, Naoto’s overall fashion sense never changed, but her outfit totally rocked.
Kanji shifted in his hospital bed, gauging where his injury was and why he was there. He didn’t remember of the incident at first, but the x-rays on his chart plastered on the wall said everything.
Head trauma - brain swelling following a physical altercation.
A knife wound in the abdomen area- patient seemed to have removed prior to hospitalization, requiring a blood transfusion.
He purposely removed that damn knife.
Kanji had a few things going through his head. First and foremost, Naoto is there. She’s probably been there awhile if she’s asleep next to his bedside. Of course, she likely found him in the state he was in.
Second, he knew Naoto very well, despite the two/three years of not seeing her. If she was in Inaba, she was there for a case.
Which brought him to his third thought, given the case file that sat in her lap-
He was a witness.
Kanji groaned, leaning back and sighing. He knew exactly why he would potentially be a witness.
–
The year following Tatsumi-san’s death had not been an easy one. He did his damnest to keep the clientele to Tatsumi Textiles, even offering tailoring additional to the already selling items. Since his mother’s passing, all her clientele left, minus the business of the Amagi Inn. They were essentially the only ones keeping his business going.
Additionally, outside the business, residential bills needed to be paid. And poor Tatsumi, Kanji had no career ahead of him, no prospects. Even a part-time job at Junes, showcasing some carpentry skills on the side didn’t provide a stable enough income to keep both his parents’ legacy and home under his name.
He was in a financial bind… that only illegal activity could fix.
Kanji heard from the grapevine of a fighting ring that took place in an old abandoned warehouse outside of town. He jumped on it immediately, hiding his hair by spraying it some wacky color, styling it some way or another, and earning the name The Emperor. He had never lost a match previously, earning him not just a fanbase, but a decent amount of money from bets.
… until that night.
He stiffened when he heard the grumble of that familiar detective he once knew. Naoto stirred and stretched, before opening her steel, grey eyes. They landed directly to him, however, not so much welcoming as they were interrogating.
“Kanji-kun.” He knew that stern voice. He gulped, before turning his blushing face.
“I hope you are feeling well. It is good to see you awake.”
He took a good minute to answer. He had to brace himself- it had been three years after all, and God she looked as badass as she did the day she left.
… “Same.”
He hoped she would smile at that sly remark. He truly did.
Instead her eyes remained piercing… per usual. “You were steps away from death.”
…
He couldn’t answer to that. She sighed, leaning back.
“... Would you care to tell me why I found you near-death and with a gaping wound staining your clothing, complete with some bruising on your face?”
There’s that interrogation talk. He sighed, struggling to adjust himself to get more comfortable. He couldn’t look at her.
…
“... Needed money.”
She quirked a brow at that. He turned to look at her. Nothing alarming of emotion behind those steel eyes.
… “Money? So you’ve managed to attempt to get yourself killed?”
He folded his arms, looking down. “What a way to say ‘long time, no see.’”
“What a way to run into you!” she snapped back. “You are more than lucky I was not to be present at your funeral.”
His face fell at that. Instead of showing some remorse, his face deadpanned. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt it in his heart that he just… wasn’t at all concerned with not being there. But in a way… it felt more compelling that she showed up at his funeral and not his hospital bed.
… “Like it matters,” he said, softly. He focused his vision straight to the window. He didn’t have the mental capacity to argue with her, which he assumed is exactly what would get her going in this interrogation.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, before standing up. She spruced up her coat, before her eyes shot back to him. “We will speak more of this when you are discharged. But for now… rest. If you dare try to leave, I will have you detained.”
Detective speak. Nice. Sarcasm.
She placed her cap over her head, before shifting to walk out of the room. She gave a pretty audible sigh as she did.
Two days felt like an eternity, but finally, Kanji had made it home, walking to the doors with that bandage over his abdomen, hidden by his coat. He fished for his keys, making way to turn the locks on the door. He walked inside, kicking his shoes, and flipped on the switch.
It didn’t turn on.
Fuck.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, giving a deep sigh as he leaned to the wall. He slid the door open again. No notice.
Probably the front of the shop. He groaned, slipping his shoes back on, and making his way straight to the front doors of Tatsumi Textiles. A red slip showed on the door.
Apologies for the inconvenience.
Due to non-payment, we have seized operations of electricity under this address.
Please complete a payment of 46,310 yen to [address].
He gripped the paper, crumbling it. With a groan, he made his way back to the residential side. He flipped on his phone flashlight, maneuvering around the sinks to ensure none of the pipes have burst.
Thankfully it has been a moderate winter. The pipes likely were to be fine.
Still freezing in that fuckin’ place.
He cupped his face, stretching the skin on his face. Then came the pain from the soreness on his face. Not fun.
The hell am I gonna do now?
He tilted his head to the wall, then grimaced at the thought he just had. He tried that maybe about four or five times. The pay was astounding, but the cost was so great that he wasn’t sure if he could stand another night crying about it.
“Just for the power bill,” he finally thought out loud to himself. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… after all, the majority of them were drunkards who likely wouldn’t remember why 45,000 yen was spent.
The Shiroku bar always had a lively vibe to it at night. A few times Kanji worked there making the drinks. The people who came there were… quite odd in all bluntness, but money was money.
He walked in, his jacket showcasing a little fur on the trims, a hat covering his hair. His glasses stayed home. He made a seat next to a familiar person, then ordered a drink. Said person shrugged him off at first, until they recognized him.
“Well, well,” he said, with a sly grin. It was a city worker, who had the tendency to target specifically him when he made the drinks. Kanji instantly had a sour taste in his mouth, but swallowed it up- along with his pride.
"You have a little-" the figure gestured, fingers pointing in those key bruised areas on Kanji's face.
“Been awhile,” he said, softly. He folded his hands, looking down at them, his breathing a little labored. “Uh… um… so…”
“How is the business going for you?” the councilman asked, with a sweet grin. He inched his stool a little closer. “I’ve missed you.”
… He sighed. “Gonna be straight with you. I need some yen. I’ll do anything.”
The councilman seemed taken aback. “Anything?”
“Just…” he looked around, gauging the noise of the bar area before whispering back. “Let’s make it damn quick, okay?”
Of course his luck be had that night. As soon as he walked out the bar with the drunkard councilman, who be to show up other than the Naoto Shirogane, walking toward no specific direction whatsoever. He quirked a brow as she saw the councilman’s arm laced around Kanji’s, before biting her cheek. Here we go.
“Kanji-kun,” she said, softly. “Do not tell me you are already drinking while consuming medication for your injury.”
Before he could speak-
“And who is it any of your business, honey?” asked the councilman, seemingly a little too drunk. That set the Detective Prince aback a bit.
“... Mine. As he is my friend.”
“Look, Naoto, we’ll talk tomorrow-”
“A friend, hmm?” The drunkard gave a scoff. Of course the man of the hour had to face away to avoid showing his humiliation. Naoto folded her arms, before pulling out a badge.
“I am pretty sure you are likely anticipating to approach the back alley based on the direction in which your body is facing.” Of course, she was good. Kanji knew that, but he totally forgot she was that good.
She showcased her badge. “And if there seems to be any illegal activity, I will know of it.”
The councilman gave quite the grimace at that, before sighing. He pushed Kanji away, before turning back to the bar.
“Sorry, Hon. Later.” With that, Kanji was expecting an earful from his friend. Yeah, he was pretty much expecting a full lecture… or a long awaited trip to Inaba PD.
Instead… Naoto sighed, and cupped her hands over her hips. Kanji couldn’t help but snarl.
… “There goes the power bill money.”
She gave a deep sigh- “And why are you adamant to bring trouble in your wake?”
He wanted to give a smarter answer to that, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was the sheer anxiety he was suddenly feeling, knowing he was not going to make that 45K yen that night.
… “You really don’t know how to struggle, do you?” He didn’t even think. He looked down to the snow- to their soaked shoes.
“You have no idea what it’s like to be dirt fuckin’ poor because when shit happens, yer Grandpa is always gonna have money to magically make yer problems disappear!” He snarled.
… “Ya have no idea how much I need that fuckin’ money right now.”
“Engaging in intimate relationships with strangers is not the way, I assure you.”
“Yeah… well…” He scoffed. “It got me through more than ya would ever care.”
Her eyes squinted. “... What is that supposed to mean?”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, kay, ask me that when ya went radio fuckin’ silent for the past two. Fuckin’. Years!” He kicked some snow back. “Not a damn text. Not a ‘how’re ya feelin’’ ‘specially when Ma was in her last fuckin’ days!”
She clammed up, looking very taken aback.
“Meanwhile, I’m barely keepin’ her damn business alive, keepin’ my head above water to the point I’ve been goin’ through shit by myself this past year, with no check-in from anyone, probably with not even a fuckin’ care in the world if I even fuckin’ died a couple days ago.” He slumped his shoulders.
“... Ya shouldn’t have come here.”
…
There was that awkward silence. When he didn’t hear a peep, that’s when he began to shift toward the bar, taking one step-
“Kanji-kun.”
He stopped in his tracks, not even looking at her.
…
…
…
… “Come to my hotel room tonight.” She tugged her index finger, a sheer sign she is feeling some sort of human emotion there. At least... that was what he thought by that little tic she always did. “... Let’s… let’s talk.”