Archive of Our Own ^beta

I have yet the time to frame or book any of my Inaba photos. Like precious memories, they are elegantly stationed in a drawer. Their negligence leaves the impression they’re insignificant — or are on equal footing with tedious documents sharing the space. Those assumptions are far from the truth. When I find myself tired or demoralized at my desk, they await me without conspiracies. I salvage them from hiding and blush despite myself while I tenderly shuffle through each piece. In a way I decompress, as if the photos are the antidote for my hard-boiled facade’s breaking point.

One photo has Narukami-san, Hanamura-san, and human Teddie soaking and proudly holding a giant carp they acquired with much-needed zeal. Their expressions humorously mimicked its. I recall Nanako-chan arriving to Samegawa Flood Plain with a picnic basket, as well as Satonaka-san flying into the river while practicing her kicks and having to use the picnic blanket to dry herself and her tears. Amagi-san almost fell into the river herself from keeling over from laughter.

Before such debacle occurred, I curiously found Nanako-chan rummaging through the bushes and joined her in beetle hunting. Despite Nanako-chan being an elementary school student and me being frequently unlike my peers in high school, somehow talking came easy. Or rather, not austere. I needn’t fancy my disposition or mannerisms over a child, and I felt grateful and at ease. Because I was also truthfully a child, and I didn’t have to step around metaphorical landmines at my pride’s expense around her. So while I approached her without titles attached and we quickly bonded over little things life offered, a horned beetle emerged out of the shrubbery and landed smack dab in the middle of Satonaka-san’s face.

Another photo is of a row of animal keychains donning garments made by Tatsumi-kun and designed by the girls. After the crossdressing debacle, Tatsumi-kun, inspired, didn’t hesitate prompting us to come up with more styles; he personally felt pretty in a dress. Much to Hanamura-san’s distress, Tatsumi-kun also crafted those very same outfits they wore during the culture festival. Now exists a cub keychain in a schoolgirl uniform — to which Teddie deemed it “his and Hanamura’s lovechild”.

Consequently, I sat at a table at Junes with Satonaka-san, Amagi-san, and Kujikawa-san armed with sketchbooks. Kujikawa-san brimmed with confidence, Satonaka-san saw this as an opportunity, and Amagi-san behaved as though a student doodling during a lecture but nonetheless a helpful one. It felt good to be depended on, unlike how cooking injured our egos. To me, this definitely felt out of the ordinary — to flex my intuitive brain over femininity — to which I found my tastes aligning slightly with Satonaka-san’s. The topic of discussion among us four evolved into gendered clothing and if it really existed as a whole. I came out of that more open to the idea of femininity (that it realistically can be tough and impartial and respected) yet also encouraged to retain my androgynous brand. But most importantly: feeling comfortable in my own skin, without anybody skewing my own perception of myself. Without man-made labels.

I smile. These are a couple out of many photos I keep. 2011 gave my obstinate mask a major blow. Everything I suppressed about myself steadily oozed, bit by bit, as my friends gave me the warmth I didn’t know I needed to be myself. It’s still no easy task, but perhaps the Naoto I became for the sake of the Shirogane name developed into an actual facet. Another side to me to embrace, this time in a healthy way. Who am I really? Which is truth? Are they always separate or can they blend together? It’s all very peculiar. And frustrating. It makes me feel like I’m chasing my own tail. Truly, I am my hardest case.

I once vented to Kujikawa-san only to learn I was explaining how Kujikawa-san once felt about herself — and came to accept. As she gently cupped my hand, she proposed to let whatever happens naturally. And naturally, that melted my heart.

Currently taking residence at Tatsumi Port Island, I haven’t visited Inaba in quite a while. For one, Sanada-san was a particular case, similar to me, and in hindsight it was foolish of me to think I had him figured out after one or two inane interactions and maybe a glance.

I assumed he had already known the gist of my story, me being a Detective Prince not a secret. I was correct, but when Sanada-san asked why I became a detective, he wasn’t looking for a family-based answer but a personal one.

“My being a detective because of my family is as much of a personal reason as any, I’m afraid.”

“You mean, nothing at all happened that drove you to become as great as you are? You’re a rarity, you know?” His perplexed features made me feel that something about this disappointed him — or that I was lying. The scrutinization hit me similarly to those of the men in the police force. I didn’t understand why he made that part matter so much. Did he idolize me by any chance?

Affronted, I coolly shot back, “How about you tell me about yourself first before having someone you hardly know land beneath your expectations.”

Sanada-san blinked. The glare (I supposed that was) he possessed vanished. “I’m not— I’m not judging you or anything. I didn’t mean it like that. There just has to be a reason you hold a lot of pride to your name considering the kind of society we live in. Ironically, people aren’t born taken to their identities. Or some could, I don’t know. You could adore your parents for all I know.”

Defeated, I sighed. “I see. How about I divulge that I’m not as chivalrous as I might seem, and that I never truly knew my parents and pursued my career as though it was a hobby? What would you surmise?”

“I’d say you had your priorities figured out long before I did.”

A tickled smile couldn’t help itself claim my face. “Well, yes, I suppose. Unknowingly so. It came with a price, however. Maybe it’s because I didn’t know my parents that I turned out the way I did. Making friends wasn’t my forte.” Briefly I contemplated voicing an addition, but it left my mouth before I decided. “I was taken to detective novels and yearned to be just like those men portrayed.”

“Let me guess: reality isn’t as impressive as fiction.”

Softly and solemnly. “…Correct. In every aspect, I might add. Minus the Persona part.”

I took a deep breath. “The ideal I desired was unattainable from the start. It was my weakness as a child to take every detail from those stories to heart. I struggled with the reality in due time. I…”

I said too much. Did he figure what I was getting at? Somehow Sanada-san could detect my discomfort; with impeccable timing, he waved a waiter over to our table and asked for the tab. That gave me enough time to poise myself.

“Need I remind you that you still haven’t said anything about yourself?”

He turned back towards me, revealing a sheepish expression. “Uh— Oh, right. I wasn’t intending to, but it seems fair. For starters, I’m nothing like a novel detective, so don’t set the bar too high for me there. In fact… I might feel similarly to you, although— I’m.. kind of a disaster.” I watched as he hesitated, running a hand through his Caesar cut. “I did have my own ideals that were full of crap. I paid the price for being so blind to what was in front of me. We might not be so different, you and I.”

But how was I supposed to know as to what extent if he didn’t go into detail? I was about to press on until he stood after paying, in ‘oops, look at the time’ fashion. He left me intrigued but also annoyed. Because once I considered everything, I wondered if I said what I did just to prove myself to another man.

I started feeling sick to my stomach.

***

I wanted to sleep. Alas, work beckoned, so antihistamine tablets would have to suffice. I had a meeting with a witness. After dressing and pocketing my notebook and pen, I momentarily land a hand over my abdomen and took a deep breath. Left my hotel room. My mind dedicated itself to today’s events rather than the other day’s discussion frankly. The worst, however, was when I had to indistinctly lean forward and press my fingertips into my brow in attempts to disguise my cramping by appearing deep in thought. This was the least of my concerns when I was sixteen. What happened? How cruel. It felt like no matter what I couldn’t keep up with being comfortable with my own body.

So it surprised me to return to my hotel with a package addressed to me. But when I checked the sender, my eyes lit upon ‘Amagi Inn’. I took little heed to my aching back carrying the box to my room.

Tampads, tampons, disposable heating pads, more pain medicine, women’s one daily multivitamin supplements, massage lotion, a pack of brand new panties, chamomile teabags. Blame PMS, but I could cry. So typical for me to remain calm, but this time Amagi-san had the honor to hear me nearly sob over the phone.

“You went beyond all expectations! How could I repay you?!”

“Oh, did the package make it there? Whew. Thank goodness I didn’t pay for overnight delivery for nothing.”

“Amagi-san!”

“It was nothing! I caught wind that you started your period, and I was concerned is all. We girls gotta look out for each other.” A pause. I could hear a stifled chuckle manifest in her otherwise composed tone. “Thoughhhh, I suppoooose you coming to visit would even things…”

“Yes, I should make arrangements one of these days. It’ll all depend on the case, so I can’t promise an exact date, but—“

“No, I understand. I was teasing you. I figured sending you those things will do until then. They’re to remind you that you’re not forgotten. Thank Chie for telling me. The world needs our Detective Prince, so take care of yourself, okay?”

“Thank you, Amagi-san…” I turned my head the other way as if attempting to hide my face from one side of the world, as if I’d get caught. My, how my nest of a bed looked comfortable; my shoes had yet left my feet. “Err, it’s weird.”

“What is?”

“I’m.. afraid I’m not used to addressing feminine hygiene. I hardly have the opportunity, and, I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right. I.. I feel as though I’m experiencing culture shock,” I mumbled. “To me this issue is all.. ‘whatever’. ‘I’ll deal with it on my own’ sort of thing.”

“I think I get it. I’m not sure. But I know how you are, Naoto-kun. I apologize if I said something embarrassing. It doesn’t have to ‘be anything’. It just is? There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’ll.. keep that in mind.”

“Yep. It still sucks though, but you’re not alone. If you need to complain about anything, I’m all ears. But — oh, you know what’s weird? Kanji-kun was trailing me the entire time I went shopping for you once he heard me say you were in trouble—snrk!” And she lost it. With a free hand, I cupped my boiling face. “Should’ve seen how awkward he got when I went in the feminine product aisle!”

“Please say no more. Please.” After her laughing fit went mostly away, I then asked, “By the way, why pads and tampons?”

“Didn’t know pretty much — but neither does Kanji-kun.”

“Please!! I need to go now.”

Almost did I discard the empty package until I realized I was mistaken. Amidst the tissue paper, I found at the bottom corner of the box a knitted cat keychain wearing a navy blue trench coat and cap.

I finally let myself cry.

***

In a more casual and less high-profile outfit, I had an hour to spare before meeting with Kirijo Mitsuru. I was in the city after all. So I spent the time sightseeing and observing its residents… until coming across a toy store. I debated with my own desires before mentally kicking myself and going in anyway. Like a bashful robber sneaking about. I zipped out with a bag: a mecha model kit.

***

“Shirogane, it’s a pleasure to see you.” Mitsuru-san stepped forward, exchanging a handshake with me. Taken aback, her eyes shone at the bouquet I proceeded to present her with. An arrangement of anemones, eucalyptuses, and Persian lilies. A hand rose to pleasantly surprised tinted lips.

“I hope I’m not intruding on important matters.”

“Well, there is little time to relax around here, but I’m learning to subsist despite all odds.” Mitsuru-san gave a sorry smile. “Around half a year ago I became bedridden for months due to overwork and stress. My company won’t collapse borrowing you for an hour, don’t worry.”

Mitsuru-san cradled the bouquet in her arms as I followed into what appeared to be a large dining area. A servant, I assumed, took the bouquet from her and disappeared before Mitsuru-san approached the room’s seating arrangement and motioning to vanilla sofas. At the center: an intricate macaron display placed on a doily. “Please, make yourself at home.”

Taking her spot, I leaned over and plucked a dotted beige macaron from the colorful batch to analyze and sample (mm, gingerbread?) as Mitsuru-san expressed gratitude for the flowers. Next I observed my host. Although this meeting was to be a casual one, Mitsuru-san did not look the part: a black and white uniform with shoulders adorned with epaulettes. A charcoal pencil skirt with a slit.

“At any rate, I’m relieved you’re healthy now. Also, your hair looks chic. Quite a change.”

Meekly, Mitsuru-san patted beneath her cut, now above shoulder-length and wavy, from the mention. “Thank you. When I was sick, I took extreme measures to reduce stress. Although my stylists tend to my hair for me, it felt more freeing not only time-wise but also emotionally to make it this short. Frankly, I’m still getting used to it.”

As someone with short hair, I understood what she meant. However, after high school, I attempted to grow out my hair, but maintaining it became too much of a burden.

A couple people enter the room. The bouquet was contained in a vase, now propped beside the desserts. Another servant delivered us tea. Mitsuru-san thanked her as she retrieved her English teacup and saucer. “I’ve also substituted coffee with tea, although that isn’t a permanent decision.” A sip and her expression turned gloomy — but it wasn’t entirely because of this choice.

“… What was important to me that received collateral damage due to my bullheadedness was my promise to my friends to never let myself get to that point.”

“I.. understand full well of your situation. They’re not upset with you now, I hope?”

“Thankfully, they remain dear and by my side, but it was clear they were disappointed in me. Yukari especially. No— What I mean is, not only that, but they shifted the blame onto themselves. I do not require a babysitter… Nonetheless, I comprehend that it was my responsibility to not only take care of what I need to but myself as well. If not for myself, then for my friends.”

I was staring at a mirror of myself. Sympathetic to her guilt. At the same time, ‘Why do you try so hard?’ entered my mind, and I owed Sanada-san an apology.

An audible sigh came from Mitsuru-san as she shook her head. “How unsightly of me. You didn’t visit to listen to prattle. Here. Let me show you something lovely instead.”

She retrieved her cellphone from her pocket, uncrossed her legs, and moved from her chair to share the sofa. An image of a Balinese cat dominated the screen. “Her name is Bella. She is precious.”

Round, cerulean eyes could attest. Mitsuru-san showed me a couple more images of the Kirijos’ newest addition until she pointed at the plastic bag I had at my side.

“Oh, this? I.. I, umm, have a fondness for craft. Of the nerdy sort.” Steadily, I pulled the mecha model kit from hiding and held the busy package as if I was a child showing a mother spaghetti art. Mitsuru-san only nodded.

“Have you contacted Aigis recently?”

“Huh?” That wasn’t the type of feedback I expected, if it had anything to do with this, that was. “No, I haven’t spoken to her in so long. Why do you ask?”

“I see…” She looked displeased. “Has Akihiko not mentioned that they’ve taken residency in the same apartment? I haven’t seen him as often as I used to ever since he’s resigned from the Shadow Operatives. The most I know is how the two of you are in a joint investigation.”

“No… It’s not usual for us to bring up ourselves. I take it we mutually regarded doing so as unprofessional.” The implication that was how focused Sanada-san was didn’t cheer Mitsuru-san up a bit, but I continued. “I hope this doesn’t come across as nosy, but is he.. difficult?”

My host waved a dismissive hand. “Anything I answer would be pot calling the kettle black. Take that however you like.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. If anything, Mitsuru-san had been pleasant.

If I really wanted, I’d have to somehow emulate today.

***

Released from the confinements of an upper undergarment, I could finally breathe. Despite not being a binder this time around, the sentiment remained. My back sank into the comfort of my futon, my arms embracing a pillow. A cellphone hovered over my eyes while I skimmed down my contact list, containing names of most Persona users aside from my friends in the Investigation Team. Sanada Akihiko included.

I only contemplated. Although I became motivated to text him, I’d rather rest before deciding anything now, despite how long ago we talked as we did. Did he care for building new camaraderie, much less anything we discussed anymore? I wondered.

My get-together with Mitsuru-san garnered another and unexpected topic of discussion I managed feeling brave enough, albeit awkwardly so, to bring up with the heiress. Although I understood the other’s background to a chilling degree, I was always intrigued how refined and ladylike Mitsuru-san could stand to be.

As expected, she faced tribulations of her own for being the daughter. Yet ironically she took pride in being female. Maybe it was because she was stuck between a rock and a hard place to perhaps overcompensate, to match the image of what was expected of her and to passively spite the higher ups. But ultimately, like how I obliviously clung to an identity as a child, Mitsuru-san essentially had done the same — and we had the support we did to growing into them. Nonetheless, credulously viewing school uniforms as battle attire I was in awe of, frankly. No doubt Mitsuru-san wielded femininity with power — all the while determining women and men as equals. She was very cool.

Unlike how I needed to conceal myself for how ashamed I was. I got off the bed and bore my all in the standing wall mirror. Mitsuru-san had told me whatever what one wore or what shape a body took, as long as that person accomplished the necessary tasks, that alone made them worthy. This also made me recall the conversation I had with Kujikawa-san, Amagi-san, and Satonaka-san about how ‘femininity’, ‘masculinity’, and the like were created, but they could be perceived as nonexistent as well. Somehow, I could combine these separate conversations, like missing puzzle pieces I searched for during my lifetime, together. I was everything and nothing alike. While I cupped my own breasts, something deep within my core pacified, and I no longer needed to fret.

***

Lastly, Mitsuru-san tipped me off by saying how Sanada-san wasn’t the type fret over that with me either. I chose to trust in those words as I sought him out in the crowd. Blurred faces went to and fro before recognizing his hair and build. Waving my hand up high, I hurriedly crossed Paulownia Mall.

“Hello!”

Sanada-san turned towards me and his facial features turned friendly. I didn’t specify our destination prior to meeting up. Walking and being shown around was sufficient enough for me, and Sanada-san expressed zero qualms. But after a while, the burning question surfaced.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

We inhabited a spacious bridge, with the breeze fumbling our hair about. I breathed in the fresh air. With my composure abiding, as I gazed at the ocean, my mellow expression transitioned into an adamant one. I pivoted towards Sanada-san.

“Do you recall the discussion we had? What was my reason for becoming a detective? When it was your turn to explain yourself, you left me with more questions than answers. To be honest, that frustrated me to no end. I summoned you here to satisfy my unwavering curiosity.”

Yes, that had to be it. It would even the score; I wouldn’t feel he sized me up with me biting the bait back then, otherwise.

“Oh…” His expression muted. “I probably should’ve expected that, huh? What with you being an Ace Detective and all.” Then Sanada-san cracked a small smile, one without its usual warmth.

“So be it.” Taking cue, I slid into detective mode indeed. “Now tell me, why do you call yourself a disaster?” ‘How are we alike?’

Sanada-san stared at me for a long, unsettling period before taking a deep breath. I sensed irritation. He looked the other way. “I was hoping you’d forget everything. It’s not an easy topic for me.”

“I hope us cooperating this past month can assure you that I’m trustworthy.”

Sanada-san made a face. “In a way. But… I feel like a suspect here, being put on the spot like this. It’s like I’m forced into interrogation, not confiding in a friend.”

Somehow that threw me off. True, I was hell-bent in obtaining the truth, but was it erroneous of me taking this approach? Had my social skills this entire time not matured, not softened, for me to be able to forge intimate connections?

Perhaps I was unaware of how painfully, physically stricken I appeared. Sanada-san reverted his attention to his cellphone with a dour expression, forehead scratched with wrinkles. Then, he peered up — could barely meet my bemused eyes. “Listen… Something’s come up. I gotta go.”

He hesitated. But ultimately he parted ways with a quiet “I’m sorry.”

I hopelessly watched as Sanada-san slipped away. My hands balled into fists. What on earth just happened? My head felt hot. I couldn’t tell if I was mad at him or myself, for looking like an ass. For utterly failing. I couldn’t bring myself to be desperate and chase after him. My already damaged pride would be on the line again. What then?

I strode forward with my hands digging into my coat pockets. Calm down, Shirogane. But it was hard, working through my emotions and coming to terms with him being on my mind on and off not only because Sanada-san was a mystery to be solved and to settle an imaginary score led by my own complex — but because I wanted a friend. Yet here I was, throwing a tantrum by my lonesome with the afternoon wind at my back.

“Coward… You coward!!”

***

It was news to me that Satonaka-san and Sanada-san had been exchanging letters. Got along well. When I admitted over the phone how I wanted to get to know my coworker better, Satonaka-san sang her praises for him and mentioned hoarding tons of vibrant stationary just to write to one guy. I wasn’t sure if we were talking about the same person.

“It is kinda strange how you guys haven’t hit it off by now. Not only is he strong, but he’s so cool and smart — like you, Naoto-kun.” I could hear a musing hum from her on the line. “I haven’t seen him since the Minazuki Sho incident. Maybe he’s different outside of work?”

“He most likely has been avoiding me, but I presume I’ve been coming onto him too strong to his liking.”

“Whoa-ho, Naoto-kun…!”

“No, don’t misunderstand.” I huffed. Small mecha parts splayed over my desk, taunting me. “It’s the opposite of what you’re assuming.”

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“I’ve been.. defensive. Since I hardly know him at all, I haven’t come around to trusting him… a male coworker… with personal matters.”

A brief pause. “Ohh,” came the enlightened response. Satonaka-san’s tone completely transformed into empathy. “Naoto-kun… Sanada-san isn’t like that. He… he’s helped me out with that sorta thing, actually. Before he left Inaba, you know what he said? ‘A man isn’t bound by his sex.’ That stuck with me since. I think a country girl like me needed to meet someone like him. I think you should give him a chance, too.”

I was left to my devices once our conversation ended. My mind was in two places: figuring out how to assemble this mecha and what to do about Sanada-san. After mulling everything over, I conceded by opening the drawer to my desk.

***

It was inevitable for the air between us to be awkward. However, I became restless once Sanada-san approached me that morning saying he’d like to properly speak with me after work — and, as addendum: to pretend that nothing happened for the rest of the day until then. Much to my relief, for once he sounded mature, while at the same time this happenstance enforced my plan.

I could taste the silent competition, but I managed beating him in making the first move. With both hands, I presented an envelope as I bowed. “Please… accept this…!”

I preferred him to take it and leave my sight, but Sanada-san, with features graced with confusion, couldn’t take the hint and read the letter right in front of me. How much of a child I felt then and there. I refused to make eye contact, pretended I didn’t exist, as he processed my writing.

“Um… Huh…” Sanada-san stiffly started. “Let’s.. take a walk. Wanna grab a quick bite?”

I agreed, also finding solace to be beside him and observing our surroundings rather than standing so bluntly face-to-face. Plus, I was hungry.

“Err..” At last. “I need to get this out of the way first. Leaving you alone like that was stupid of me. I really am sorry. Clearly what I said hurt you. To be honest, I’m not good at making friends either.”

“Apology accepted — since I could tell by the way you keep running away from me.” I ducked my head a little. “Um, no offense.”

Sanada-san laughed. Self-deprecating. “Right.”

I sighed. “Left and right I’ve heard favorable testimonies about you, but I on the other hand passed poor and unfair judgment, and I’m supposed to be the Detective Prince.”

He shrugged. “We can start over if you want. Just.. don’t hound me as you did. Reminds me of Mitsuru.”

My eyebrow quirked. That was another discussion for another day. “By the way, why is it that I had to hear it from Mitsuru-san to know you and Aigis-san are living together? How did that come to be?”

“It was her doing. Mitsuru’s, I mean. Took extra precaution to make sure I do well in school like a good little boy and not drop out again.” I noticed how an invisible memory jeered at him. “Aigis became my supervisor, but after I graduated, we ended up simply as roommates. I think of her as the glue between me and the Shadow Operatives.”

“I see… I’d like to see Aigis-san one of these days. Why’d you drop out, anyway?”

I stopped walking once Sanada-san did. We stood in the middle of Iwatodai Station’s strip mall. “Hold on. What do you want to eat? We got Octopia, Wild-Duck Burger, Hagakure, Umiushi, Wakatsu. I’m more of a Hakagure and Umiushi kind of guy.”

“Hagakure. It takes me back.”

He gave a nod of approval for my decisiveness. “Got it. Hey, maybe next time I could make you something instead. You know, if you came to see Aigis.”

“Oh! You cook?” I asked, clearly shocked, while I followed him up the stairs. I felt I had just learned a secret about Satonaka-san’s role model, as well as attained secret access. My reaction made Sanada-san chuckle.

“Well, yeah. Though I’m no specialist. I know enough to get by.. as well as to consume the proper nutrition.”

“Uh-huh…” I slowly nodded as an old, embarrassing thought budded. I deadpanned. “I remember a caped man going on and on about protein when we first spoke.”

“Ughh!” Did I just.. witnessed him putting his face in his hand?

I dared to remember my.. assets being a point of focus and shook my head. “What a.. revolting first impression.”

“Can’t you drop that?!”

“I had sworn you were a lunatic.”

“I didn’t know any better!”

Behind him radiated my smug aura as we silently neared Hagakure. This rare, comedic exchange genuinely gave me the impression, like a tender massage, that we were finally getting along. That I made a friend — one who was right (actual heights aside) under my nose — in Tatsumi Port Island. I prayed that after today everything wouldn’t end as a fluke. Sanada-san managed recovering by the time he yanked open the rustic entryway and motioned me in. “But.. uh.. Yeah. I wasn’t attending school at the time.”

He opened up to me while in the middle of our meal. In 2012 he dedicated himself to pursuing strength by going on a self-discovery journey around the world. Turned out at the time he was running from bygone problems even then. It took meeting Satonaka-san and the Investigation Team to straighten himself out. In high school he was even more preoccupied with his image and what his fists were capable of that he failed to effectively ‘support a friend in need’. The gist. A disaster he was — and still was, apparently.

“It does seem we’re both cut from the same cloth. Sensitive and socially inept. I kept you at arm’s length because I thought you had been underestimating me.”

Sanada-san nearly pivoted on the stool in retaliation. “No, never! Why would—”

“You needn’t explain yourself. You and Mitsuru-san used to be partners, after all. It was stupid of me to think that when that fact exists. You make an exceptional partner, too.” That last part pleasantly smothered him, giving me the opportunity to voice what haunted me for years. “…Unfortunately, you aren’t the norm. Growing up aware of that and exposed to the extraordinary characters I wished to become, in the novels I adored.. distorted my body image and self-esteem.”

I could sense his pity as I singed from hearing my immaturity leave my own lips.

“So that’s how it was…” Sanada-san mumbled.

Aside from Grampa and friends in Inaba — which the TV World gave me no say on the matter — this was the first time I shared that part of myself with an outsider. And I could never take it back. My heart pulsated. My right hand attempted to lead a pair of chopsticks to my mouth, but I couldn’t concentrate. Argh, how stupid.

Sanada-san leaned closer. I could tell because part of him appeared in my left peripheral, and I could feel the warmth of his breath. “Hey, are you okay?” he whispered, clearly concerned. I could also feel a hand on my upper back.

I aggressively shook my head, hoping by some miracle it’d push him away so I could endure this on my own. Instead, Sanada-san quietly stayed with me until this passed. I rasped an apology. Afterward, he paid for both of us and offered to walk me back to my hotel. After several repeats, I persuaded him I was fine and went home on my own.

***

A downpour caused us to take refuge inside the nearest shelter, which happened to be the toy store. We waited by the windows and gashapon machines as I patted the rain off my cap but immediately got ourselves drawn in by what was inside. I noticed the calm energy we both emitted contradicted the general lively display of the store, with us serenely browsing, snug inside our coats. Something about this brought great relief, to be able to peacefully share and enjoy something I usually shy away from.

We passed board games and puzzle boxes, sports balls and regular bouncy balls, jump ropes and hula hoops, copyrighted trading cards and figurines, American superheroes, stuffed animals and puppets including Disney, children’s foot to floor cars, palm-sized race cars and construction trucks — I could go on. Out of everything, I avoided the dolls, however, as they inherently repelled me. Sanada-san didn’t seem to care. Strangely enough, I felt we were equals. Two twenty-something-year-olds, strolling through the aisles of a children’s store. For once I wasn’t ashamed.

For ten minutes or so, Sanada-san pardoned himself to the restroom and returned with a bagged purchase, practically bouncing.

“How unexpected,” I teased. “Something caught your eye?”

He chuckled at me. “That line I should’ve asked you.”

Before I asked what he meant by that, he handed me the bag.

It took a second for me to process that whatever was inside was for me. That the man before me went out of the way to buy a gift with me in mind. It was as if I almost forgot how to pry apart a plastic bag. Inside: a blue budgerigar plush pochette. I heard Sanada-san say he saw me eyeing the set.

“B-but why?” I sputtered, my temperature rising over this whole ordeal. Sanada-san nonchalantly shrugged. Clearly my reaction satisfied him. Show off.

“Why not? For the record: I’m not mocking you or anything. I — uh.” Copper eyes sheepishly peered down at nothing in particular before reclaiming himself. “I apologize if it’s not to your taste o-or if it’s weird. I could return it here and now if you want. It’s just, I like being with you, that’s all. It’s thanks for being as you are. You’re one of a kind… in a good way, I mean… and I want to make you happy at least once. The opportunity was there and I took it.”

I chewed on those words like chewing the wall of my mouth, realizing how often I looked pathetic around him in a casual setting and how often he had to put up with me. He was aware of that. And to think I considered myself low-maintenance.

I mumbled the only appropriate response. “Thank you…”

The most inconvenient thing was me just standing there with the bird in my hands as well as the bag. Sanada-san, considerate, retrieved the latter from me, allowing me to timidly loop the pastel pink cord over my shoulder. I wasn’t a purse person, hence I wasn’t used to this. It stopped raining, so we stepped outside in the sultry streets so dazzling it made it hard to see.

“U-um,” I spoke up. Sanada-san heard me and slowed his pace alongside mine. “About what you said. I.. I’d have to disagree. I’ve been anything but good company. You’ve always bore the brunt of me behaving like a petulant child.”

He scratched his head. “We.. did get off on the wrong foot in the beginning, but, I mean, I’m no saint either…? I know you better now. And long before everything happened, I admired your skills and guts as a detective and how your mind worked. It’s not every day I get to hang out with someone, not even Aigis. She also has her own life that doesn’t necessarily involve me.”

“So I’m a stand in since there’s nobody else?”

“No, no—“ Sanada-san shook his head, groaning beneath his hand. “That’s not what I mean at all. I— Do you know how rare it is to find someone I have in common with? What I’m saying is that you’re that person, Shirogane. You’re also… how do I put it… upfront? You’ve owned up to everything, in my opinion anyway. Handing me an apologetic letter explaining yourself to my face takes.. well, balls. And, uh…”

I involuntarily touched the plush at my side as I watched his words delay. The suspense bewitched me despite how petrified I honestly was. I suspected him to say something about me I hardly ever got to hear from another person because of how private I kept my personal life to myself. Just how amazing of a detective I was (when I wasn’t ‘impinging’ in on professed men’s affairs).

“I-it was also endearing. I… like how your voice sounded. And how it sounds in general. The way you carry yourself and push yourself forward is also.. charming.” He buried his face into his hand by this time. “Ughh, this sounds like a confession.”

“O-oh…” I wasn’t sure, as it sank in, if I felt better or worse before all of that. No, that was poor phrasing. What I meant was… Being acknowledged and appreciated like this… There was an exotic, unbelievable warmth, like a fever or like lava, that our surroundings couldn’t capture spilling from my core, and I couldn’t flee to bask in my racing emotions alone. I’m certain Sanada-san felt the same but by a different incentive.

“…Yeah.”

“I understand now.”

Sanada-san suddenly laughed. At first it sounded like reluctant sputters which soon turned heartfelt. Like whatever tension had been contained in his larger build this entire time was bursting, bubbling outside as his face brightened in pink. I hadn’t seen this from him before. And I saw no reason to question it.

***

Our investigation was wrapping up; we were working overtime, piecing together everything we gathered and discussing at length. The coffee jug was frequently passed back and forth. We were exhausted but we tasted victory.

***

“That was absolutely careless of you!” I chided with Sanada-san’s weight on my shoulders. I had half the mind to summon Aigis-san due to how heavy he was. In fact I was going to after I had finished padding beneath his bloody nose with my handkerchief. Sanada-san only chuckled as if I had praised him instead.

“Got everything settled down, though, right?”

Unfortunately, he stood correct. Shouting and something crashing inside a local bar caught our attention that evening. Sanada-san nominated himself to charge in without allowing a second for me to offer input. Long story short, a bar fight ensued. However, the three drunkards who initially caused the violent uproar got apprehended. Although it didn’t went without unwarranted injuries on his end.

Sanada-san’s movement gripped my attention. Disciplined yet ferocious. I knew he was an outstanding boxer in high school with secret additional shadow skirmishes under his belt, but seeing this in real time was something else than what praise and records could offer.

However. My conflicted mind fixated on something. How Sanada-san bore his fangs like a hunter after its prey… like a dog… unlike a detective. That he craved that fight more than anything. It went against the image I had of him: kind, patient, sensible. I had seen him clean and in formal attire daily, so I was unfamiliar with the bruised and bloodied man I held so close to me I could smell his aftershave and deodorant. That was different, too.

It posed the question I had frequently aimed at myself: who was Sanada Akihiko really? Seeing another facet of him after cooperating with him for the past month reminded me how I used to be so hung up on upholding a single identity. And here he was relishing.

Aigis-san helped the rest of the way back, with me merely following suit. With a twist of the key and a flick of the light switch, we entered their apartment room.

“I can take it from here, Aigis,” he said as he removed himself from her clutches, pressing a heavy palm into the wall.

“Please be more careful next time, Sanada-san,” she said. We both watched him steadily turn a corner to a hall, making his way to another room. Aigis-san, with a grateful expression, then took heed of me, “Make yourself at home, Shirogane-san.”

Water started running in the other room. I took a seat on the sofa and turned on the nearest lamp. Then I peered over at an incomplete puzzle I bought for us. It turned out Sanada-san harbored a small penchant for these, but his childhood left him with little amusement. The other day, after I had the honors of tasting his cooking, we began collaborating. We chatted with Aigis-san present, reporting how Mitsuru-san’s cat, Bella, was doing. I didn’t hesitate to tinker with the puzzle now as I was contemplating, my legs crossed. However, my presence here was not one without purpose.

“Aigis-san,” I said with my chin resting against my knuckles, “may I ask you about Sanada-san?”

From the corner of my eye, she tended to potted plants on her section of the apartment. “Oh? What is it that you wish to know?”

“What was he like during high school?”

“Ahh…” Positioning her watering can upright, she took a few seconds to process my question and jog her memory. “He is not so different compared to who he is today. I had met him and the other members of SEES in the middle of his final year. He was what one would call a model student, and he never lost a boxing match. He was very popular with girls and had his own fan club, but he never shown interest. He was the ambitious-type and sought opportunities to train. I remember Junpei-san describing Sanada-san as a storm, and I believe that is an accurate description. Sometimes he would endanger himself and the team inside Tartarus because of his eager personality. But then on October fifth of that same year, Sanada-san took a major shift after the incident that occurred the night before.”

“What happened?”

“SEES pursued the Arcana Strength shadow during the seventh Full Moon Operation. However, two members were absent. It was after the Arcana Strength shadow was defeated when—“

“Aigis, that’s enough.”

Her head and I twisted towards the interjected voice. Sanada-san stood in the room now, pressing a bundled towel to his nose with a hand wrapped in bandaid tape. His hair looked freshly washed (one of the inebriated men splashed alcohol on him during their fight) and tousled from towel use. Smaller bandaids accompanied his arms and frown. I didn’t know about Aigis-san, but I was nervous for being caught being fed information as my eyes synchronized with his maneuver towards the fridge. He reached for something and then came towards me, beer can in sight. No pain medicine, hm?

The empty cushion next to me slumped from his weight. He cranked the tab open as it fizzed. “I should be the one to talk about that, not her. Guess now’s a good time as any. But why do you wanna know so badly?”

My fingers fumbled with a puzzle piece, pressuring the edges into my tips. “I’m, sorry for being invasive. I…” I peered the other direction and softly took a deep breath. “My information gathering was to lead me into deciphering your reason for being a detective.”

Sanada-san nearly laughed. Oh, he was smug. “I should really spare you the trouble. Keep this up and I’ll only drive you crazy.”

He sipped and placed the can on the coffee table before picking up a puzzle piece of his own. Nodding to herself, Aigis-san read the mood and went in the other room.

“Short version of Aigis’ story. My best friend was murdered that day shielding a child SEES recruit from two gunshots. Said friend distanced himself from SEES two years before that because he couldn’t control his Persona — which murdered the kid he died to protect’s mother. I realized this too late.”

Sanada-san collected five matching puzzle pieces, which I aided in assembling, while he explained this and then took another sip. Meanwhile, I offered condolences. He only shook his head quietly.

“After that accident, he’d been taking Persona suppressants for god knows how long. One of the side effects included shortening the host’s lifespan.”

I could only guess what the purpose of those drugs was. Thankfully, Sanada-san did elaborate their usage albeit how little he did know, what Strega was and the Kirijo Group’s involvement, and that Amada-kun originally desired revenge — and then he finally got to the meat I was after.

“I became a detective because I wanted to protect others like how Shinji did. When we were kids, we promised to become stronger than we were, but up until October fourth I had been going about it the wrong way. I completely neglected my best friend and lost him, and I’d been living with that reality since. I thought I was on the right track once I graduated, but, I guess…”

I considered the idea of him slaving away at a sandbag to grant his wishes. To periodically check himself in the mirror and ultimately feeling unsatisfied because the problem persisted — and never breaking free from this maddening cycle, never achieving valuable closure. I was much like him.

As our hands toiled away, I realized how vastly different they were. Not only contrasting in size — mine thinner and smaller — but also in overall looks and, I’d imagine, feeling as well. Kujikawa-san’s smile blessed my thoughts, aimed at me for confiding in her as she tightly held my hands. I wanted the ‘disaster’ beside me to feel how I did. Beautiful and loved. And I really, truly hoped the Naoto who naturally bloomed in the now would be welcomed. Sanada-san kept moving while I curiously ceased motion, hesitated, before one of my stimulated hands settled over his.

“Y-you’re.. an,” I mumbled, unable to look at his eyes, “excellent detective.” Pathetic.

His hand beneath me went meek, until easing centimeters away, knuckle by knuckle, and seizing mine in return. It expressed unspoken gratitude, and we shared a tender moment for a while (although I acutely wished to clutch my own chest).

Android-like shuffling in the other room broke us apart, we instead pretending to appear transfixed over a fractured castle. However, Aigis-san did not show herself. I trudged through my fluster, staring at my feet.

“Uh.. err.. earlier today I couldn’t recognize you. I’ve never seen you so disheveled… deranged like that before.”

“That’s a bit much… but, huh, you’re right. I probably was in over my head. It’s been a while since I had a good bout.”

“You call that ‘good’—?!”

I heard a ‘heh’ at my exasperation. “I guess old habits die hard. Even as a kid I was like that. But.. don’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t strong or cool at all. Maybe I’ll tell you about it one day. Just don’t get scared off before then.”

I knuckled his arm.