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In Kanji’s experience, packs of snickering teenagers rarely signaled anything good.
The particular group of second-years in front of him was no exception. Unlike Kanji, they had actually earned their reputations as punks and bullies. The rumors that they’d attempted to recruit him as their leader were completely unfounded, mostly because Kanji avoided them like the plague. The rumors that they’d all had run-ins with the police Kanji knew to be based in truth, as he’d had the misfortune of being brought in at the same time as the scrawny, sleazy brute that they rallied around, Nakayama. These guys were bad news.
Naoto’s big reveal had, unfortunately, thrust her directly into their crosshairs, and the past few months had been pockmarked by teasing and insults. Though she insisted she could handle it, Kanji could see in the set of her jaw and her clipped speech that their taunts got under her skin. The only thing that had kept him from teaching them a lesson they wouldn’t forget was picturing with painful clarity the looks he’d receive from Senpai, his Ma, and Naoto herself – the three people he did not want to disappoint any further. So he settled for hating them from afar, his only consolation being that they hadn’t yet, as far as he knew, stooped to physical violence.
As they exited the men’s room after school smirking and high-fiving each other, Kanji wasn’t expecting to find anything good in their wake. He was not, however, prepared to see a familiar small figure doubled over by the sinks, arms around her stomach and blue hair brushing the grimy floor. A pool of water slowly crept towards her from an open stall.
“Naoto!” Bag forgotten at the door, Kanji rushed across the room and dropped to his knees in front of her, gripping her shoulders. This close up he could see her entire body heaving, a tiny wheezing noise coming from her throat. “Look at me – just breathe, okay?”
Naoto jerked back, trying to wriggle away, but he held on. “Go…away…” she rasped, cutting herself off with a hacking cough.
“What the hell did they do to you?” Kanji demanded, trying to get her to sit up straight. She leaned forward and made a move to push him away, instead tipping straight into his chest. As he pulled her off he caught a glimpse of her face and gasped. “Naoto!”
She froze, realizing he had seen, giving up and allowing him to gently hook his finger under her chin and tilt upward. Her ragged breath seemed loud in his ears as he took in her defiant, watery eyes; the nasty bruise swelling across her cheek; the blood blooming from her bottom lip. Kanji opened his mouth but couldn’t find his voice, and they stared at each other until Naoto looked away.
“I’ve sustained worse injuries on cases. This is noth –”
“Don’t you dare say this is nothin’,” Kanji snapped, harder than he intended. He cursed himself when he saw her flinch, however slightly. “Sorry,” he sighed, brushing his fingers over her jaw. “But I ain’t gonna believe for a second you tripped and did this yourself, or any other lame-ass excuse you come up with. Those bastards hurt you.”
As he said it, the reality finally registered in his mind, connecting the gaggle of punks to the hitch in Naoto’s breath; the pain etched on her face. He felt anger bubble up in the pit of his stomach. “They hurt you – Naoto, I told you to tell me if they were still givin’ you trouble, you –”
“So this is my fault?” she snapped, whipping her head to glare at Kanji.
“No!” You did it again, he berated himself, why d’you always say the wrong thing? “That’s not what I meant, I swear. This ain’t your fault.”
Out of nowhere, Naoto deflated, shoulders slumping and rage draining from her expression. “But it is.”
Kanji shook his head, quickly backpedaling. “No, Naoto, it’s not, they’re just assholes –”
“If I wasn’t – the way I am, they wouldn’t have –” Her voice cracked. Kanji instinctively moved his hands to hold hers. Even balled into fists, they were small.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with the way you are,” he insisted. She avoided his gaze, withdrawing her hands to wrap her arms around herself.
“I haven’t even been in here since my – my secret came out. Since everyone knows about me, I feel more comfortable using the facilities with those who share my…biological nature. I was entering that restroom when the big one – Nakayama – grabbed me by the elbow and yanked me out. He and his gang herded me in here and cornered me. He said I had to make up my mind, that I can’t have it both ways. ‘If you want to be treated like a girl, why don’t you act like one?’” Kanji recognized her voice, laced with bitterness, as that of someone desperately fighting back tears.
“I tried to leave without things escalating any further, but they kept shoving me back up against the wall, and when I pushed back, one of them punched me. H-he said he wouldn’t hit a…a real girl, but I don’t count. They all started laughing and agreed with him. ‘Freak,’ ‘confused,’ ‘pretty boy;’ those were some of the kinder things they said about me. I didn’t want to do or say anything to provoke them, so I stayed silent, but then they took my hat. They were tossing it back and forth, I couldn’t get it back, and then Nakayama, h-he flushed it down the toilet! I – I was so angry, I wasn’t thinking, I ran at him, and he hit me so hard it took my breath away. And – and that’s when you came in.”
Naoto trembled, shaking her head. Kanji’s heart had broken for her a million times over with every word, and seeing her like this was more than he could bear. “What – what’s wrong with me? I’m never – I’m never good enough, not as a man, not as a woman. I tried to accept myself; as a child, as a – as a girl, as not yet being as strong as I want to be. But no one will ever accept me, no one will ever see me as anything but a freak, no matter –”
Without warning, Kanji reached out and pulled Naoto as close as he could manage, holding her tight. “Don’t listen to them,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t you ever listen to them.” Naoto’s arms hung limply at her sides, too startled to either return the embrace or shove him away. “You ain’t a freak. There’s nothin’ wrong with you. It’s them, all right? Stuck in their tiny worlds where anyone who’s even a little bit different is bad. Those people are everywhere, but I promise they’re wrong. Senpai and everyone, we’re all your friends ‘cause you’re you. ‘Cause you’re good enough – more than good enough, you’re incredible. I don’t care how you dress or act or whether you’re a guy or a girl.”
Without a word, without moving the rest of her body an inch, Naoto buried her face in Kanji’s shoulder. The tears, when they finally came, were like every other emotion she displayed – restrained, controlled, quickly stifled. Kanji wondered if it made him a bad person that he hoped one day she would trust him enough to cry for real. For now, he rubbed her back until she retreated, sitting back on her heels, wringing her hands and staring at the floor.
“I…” Naoto opened her mouth, closed it, looked at him, away, and down again.
When it became clear she wouldn’t get anything else out, Kanji stood up and hesitantly moved toward the leaking stall, cringing as his slipper-clad feet splashed in the growing puddle. He slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open, afraid of what he might see in the toilet and have to report back to Naoto. To his great relief, the brim of the hat had been too wide to make it down the pipe – resulting in the clogging – so, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, plunged his hand in, and yanked until it came loose. By some miracle, the hat, while soaked, was in one piece and smelled better than he had been expecting.
“Look what I found,” Kanji said as he emerged from the stall, dripping hat pinched between two fingers. Naoto glanced up at him, eyes widening.
“It’s still – ?”
“Not many people I’d stick my hand down a toilet for, y’know.” He chanced a laugh. She didn’t smile back so much as look marginally less upset, but it was a start. Enough of a start that he found himself asking, “Hey, why don’t you come back to my place?”
Naoto blinked once. “Why?”
“Ma can get you an’ your hat both cleaned up better’n new. She always took care’a me after I got into fights, she knows what she’s doin’. Kinda wish she didn’t have to, but…” Kanji shrugged, looking away. After a beat, he took a deep breath and added, “An’ you could stay, after. For dinner. If – if you want. Ma’s cookin’s the best. Jus’ don’t tell her I said that, ok? She always gets this look on her face when I say that kinda stuff, like it’s so cute, and – h-hey, what’re you smirkin’ about?” Realizing he’d been rambling, Kanji shuffled his feet and blushed.
“I’m not smirking,” Naoto said, pursing her lips. Maybe not, but Kanji could have sworn he saw a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. She ran a hand through her hair – looking momentarily confused, as if expecting to find a hat there – then nodded. “But. Um. Yes. That is – yes, I – if it isn’t a bother to your mother, I – I would appreciate taking you up on your offer. In-including dinner.” The words had tumbled out hastily and scrambled, but they were there.
“Awesome!” Kanji couldn’t help grinning as he crossed the room and held a hand out to Naoto. She stared at it for a minute before seeming to realize what it was doing there, then grabbed on and allowed Kanji to slowly hoist her up. She winced at the movement, but stood tall. Kanji resisted the temptation to reach out and hug her again, instead nudging her with his elbow.
“Ready t’go?”
She hesitated, glancing in the mirror at her bruise and grimacing.
“We’ll deal with them. It’ll be ok. Y’ain’t alone,” Kanji promised.
After letting out a long sigh, Naoto nodded. She looked up at Kanji and, for the first time, the corner of her mouth twitched despite the exhaustion in her eyes.
“Thank you, Kanji-kun. Let’s get going, shall we?”