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Naoto had never been a big fan of police officers, to say the least. They were curt and snobby with her, looking down at her and mocking her relentlessly for even the smallest, most insignificant error she made. They rolled their eyes, snickered and made sarcastic comments behind her back whenever she entered the room. Others had broken her, twisted her psyche into a barely recognisable shape, left her with permanent and deep scars both physical and mental. She worked tirelessly day and night to prove herself as a detective, but no matter what she did, she never garnered any respect for it.
And here she was, sitting across from one in a borderline sterile apartment.
Perhaps this was because Ryotaro Dojima, a detective with the Inaba PD, had proved himself to be different. Or, perhaps not, she had thought many months ago, upon seeing a photo of his family and noting a little girl in the middle. Naoto would later learn her name, Nanako, and that her mother, also in the photo, had passed away some time ago. This information made her fists clam up and her face go red and her mind buzz with all sorts of thoughts – how could he? What gives him the right to do this to his daughter? What on earth is wrong with this man to make him do this? – and it had led to quite a few confrontations with him over his workload. It wasn’t hard for her to understand why he had been so upset at the time – she was taking work from him. Looking back, she seemed quite egotistical. However, it had all been because she had wanted him to spend some time with the little girl in the picture instead of slowly slipping away into his work. Rather herself than this poor child, who still had hope for a touch of light in her life.
Then, of course, she had fallen deeper. She’d first met Souji Seta properly and alone when he ran to buy some more groceries for his home, to which her first thought was shouldn’t the adult in the house be doing this? Naoto didn’t bother thinking deeper, however, because she knew the answer was going to be yes, but he’s busy driving himself mad looking over files for two cases most would consider impossible by now. About a month later, she met him again, this time walking with Nanako to Junes, of all places. After listening in a bit, she realised the young girl had a bit of a fixation. It was certainly strange, but after watching Seta attempt to politely coerce a clowder of cats into distributing a few fish evenly amongst themselves, she had learned not to ask questions about anyone in that family. Again, she wondered why Dojima was not there, and the answer was the same. It was always the same.
She had her first real meeting with Nanako the next week, at the summer festival, alone and in tears on a park bench. Seta at least had an excuse – he had been running errands the entire summer and probably had no clue she even left the house, but Dojima? Suddenly, her face was red and her fists were clenched again. Still, she walked forward following a few deep breaths and picked up a little toy Loveline wand (clearly Nanako’s if that ridiculous costume was any indication) to give to her. If she were to be perfectly honest with herself, she hated that show and everything about it, but if it was what Nanako needed at that moment, she was willing to provide. Naoto knelt next to the little girl, and they talked for a while until she realised what was wrong.
“I can’t find big bro! He’s been away all summer and I’ve been all alone! I want to see him at the festival but I can’t find him anywhere! I’m such a bad detective, I bet he’s disappointed.”
Of course. She was alone. So alone, in fact, she didn’t seem bothered to inquire as to the whereabouts of her father anymore. All Naoto could think to do was offer her best words of encouragement.
“Ah, don’t cry now, Loveline. If the detective gives up, the case will never be solved.”
She looked up at Naoto with stars in her eyes. That smile was radiant. She forgot to even say thank you as she ran off, newly invigorated, but Naoto didn’t mind. That hopeful look was all she needed.
That, and to rip Dojima’s throat out when she saw him next.
But Dojima had changed. It had taken a near-death experience on the part of himself, his daughter, and his nephew, but he had grown. Six or seven months ago, now, that same little girl had been kidnapped, largely because of an error on his part. The intense fury he felt in that moment nearly killed him, when he crashed into the perpetrator’s truck. Nanako, too, almost died, the fog weakening her lungs and disrupting her digestive system even more than her pre-existing condition. That incident had driven her into a similar fury, and she came very close to making a catastrophic decision with irreversible consequences. Reflecting on it now, it seemed outright foolish, but back then, in the heat of the moment, she was seeing red, just as he had in that car. She let out a polite yet sorrowful chuckle, much older and wiser than her usual laugh. The two were much more similar than she first thought. A strong sense of justice, a desire to push people away due to an inability to confront their own insecurities, a surprisingly emotional streak, all commonalities between them.
And here he was, seated comfortably across from her in her apartment.
There were no words spoken. There were many questions, but they both knew the answers. There was only peaceful silence and mutual understanding.
Naoto exhaled and released the great ball of tension built up in her body.
“So, I suppose you would like to hear my story from the beginning?”