And the last headcanon of the day, going along with KrisRix’s fanart. Naoto holds onto Kanji, but for a reason she wishes she didn’t have to.
Warnings: Angst, spoilers to December
***
The worst person in the world to deal with is a liar.
Naoto quietly walks down the street, trying to ignore the chill of the December air. It started snowing a couple of minutes ago, the flakes gently falling from the sky to touch the top of her hat. In stories, such snowfall would be seen as “pretty,” even, “romantic,” but combined with the fog and the dreadful news of Nanako’s death, there’s nothing sweet about the slow decent of the snow at all.
Kanji’s walking with her. He insisted on it despite her telling him not to. He’s the last person she wants to see because, you see, Kanji Tatsumi is a liar. Not only has he made her believe that this isn’t her fault, but he put her under false pretenses: believe in Nanako, she’s strong, she’ll be o.k. Such words are dribble, lies people spew when they, in reality, don’t know what the future holds. It’s a lie, a fairly tale, “it’ll be o.k.,” actually means, “I don’t know,” or – even worse – “she’s going to die.”
Being around these people, particularly this Kanji Tatsumi, has made her lose sight of the harsh reality of her job. Not everyone lives to see another day. Not all killers are brought to justice. She had tried to make things right, in her own immature sense, by pointing out the large T.V. in that hospital room. There was no way Namatame would ever truly get what he deserves, quote unquote, because his story makes no sense to anyone who doesn’t know about that other world. His babbling will be seen as “insanity” and he’ll be neatly wrapped in a nice, white jacket. People will sympathize instead of hate. The hatred will only be reflected in the eyes of the nameless heroes who watched as he held Nanako up into the red and black swirls of shadows, spewing nonsense about being a hero. So, logically, the solution was to do as they always did – seek justice.
But senpai – damn you, senpai – had decided to be the nice guy that he is and regain his composure. Something’s off, something’s not right, and if they really are going to “find the truth” they need to look over everything one more time. He’s right, of course, because senpai is already right. What good is there in seeking justice if they take the easy way out?
That’s why he’s the leader. That’s what good, strong men do in such situations.
Kanji and Naoto arrive at the textile shop and he immediately offers her a place to stay, “It’s cold,” he says, “And you got a long way to walk, yeah?”
“Yes, I do, but I will have to decline your offer,” and she walks ahead, hoping to end the conversation.
“Naoto.”
Unfortunately, Kanji has other plans as he runs to catch up to her. His hand is on her shoulder – that hand, goddamnit that hand, squeezing her shoulder in the same comforting grip it had weeks ago when they first brought Nanako to the hospital, “Look, I-”
“Do not even bother; there is nothing left to say.”
“Yeah there is damnit! You ain’t said a word to me since we left and-”
“I have no more words for you!” Because she does not wish to associate herself with liars. Detectives do not do well with them and she is, after all, a detective. She pushes his hand away and moves to walk forward, but now he’s holding onto her arm, “Let go of me!”
“Just… yell if you have to, o.k.? But you ain’t gotta yell alone.”
“Let go.”
“Naoto…”
“Leave me alone!” It’s the childish reactions of an angry child, but right now she doesn’t care. It has the desired effect of Kanji releasing her arm and she turns, walking through the snow alone, not even bothering to look back at him.
***
Liar.
They’re all liars, all of them.
Naoto lays back on her couch, staring up at the ceiling. She’s removed her hat and jacket, crisp white shirt untucked and wrinkled, pants long since abandoned on the floor.
She’s surrounded by liars, really. They surround her entire life. This team of friends who believe in believing, the police who thought the case was over, she’s in a world full of liars. In the detective novels, these sorts of things tend to work out somehow. Those men always get the bad guy before things can ever get this bad. It’s about clues and investigation, and there’s always time for a good mystery.
That’s not how it works in real life.
In real life, when dealing with a psychopath, it’s best to act quickly. Wasting time on talking does nothing but just that – waste time. Naoto sits up and looks over at her bookcase, frowning at the rows of novels. Even the men she groomed herself into are liars, their tactics are false and impossible to follow.
She halfway takes Kanji’s advice. She doesn’t yell. She does, however, get irrationally angry. It starts with one book, Naoto grabbing it and tossing it onto the floor. Then she grabs another, and another, knocking them all over one by one, whispering to herself, “Liar, liar.” With each loud clatter to the floor she gets angrier, eyes watering as her voice gets louder, “Liar. Liar!” In the end it’s all a fairytale and fairytales aren’t real. Nothing is based on truth – ironic, since they’re supposedly seeking it out.
Truthfully, it hurts like hell, and makes her feel sick to her stomach. Truthfully, she had believed too, in the basic formula of good and evil. Good triumphs, right? Without any casualties – especially ones that are innocent. But that’s a lie, a bitter lie that makes her throat hurt as she knocks over the last of her books.
There’s a pounding on her door and she hears someone yelling her name, “Naoto! Naoto, you o.k. in there?!”
Kanji. Great. Just what she needs, “Go away!” She screams. She looks down at the messy pile of books, her eyes widening when she sees the one that rests on the top of the pile. Dressed in all pink and pointing a dog shaped magnifying glass towards her, it’s the magical detective that Naoto use to read about as a child. Now she’s got her own television series after years of only being available in manga form and Naoto’s guilty of watching an episode or two, just to see how far the magical girl detective had come. She’s not at all like the other detectives Naoto has based herself on, relying on silly things like magic and love, but it did always brighten her day to see a girl detective chasing down the bad guys.
“Naoto? Come on, open the door!”
Naoto drops to her knees, grabbing the pink and heart covered book, hugging it close as she starts shaking. She doesn’t even notice the door opening behind her, doesn’t remember that she had been so out of sorts that she hadn’t bothered to lock her door. She hears the footsteps but doesn’t turn to look back, doesn’t bother to explain the mess of books on the floor.
“Naoto…”
“You are a liar,” she whispers.
“What?”
“You… you said… that it would be o.k.”
Kanji winces but forces himself to step closer to her. He wants to give some elegant speech to make her feel better, but as it stands all he can do is whisper her name, “Naoto…”
“All of you are liars. You, senpai, these books… everyone. Everything. Everything is a lie,” then she tosses the book she’s holding across the room, watching it smack against the floor.
“Yeah…” Kanji whispers sadly, stepping around the books around her, “… guess… we are liars, huh?”
“… I-I… I am a liar, too. We… we all lie, we lie all the time.”
Kanji nods, “Yeah, we do, don’t we.”
“W-why?” She brings her hands up to her face, covering it as she feels the sobs rock against her body, “… why did we lie to her? We said we would save her! I-I said I would save her!”
Kanji frowns sadly and tries his best to keep his emotions in check, but he can already feel a tear slipping down his face, “Because… we didn’t know it was a lie. W-we… we felt it was the truth.”
“… I… I had a feeling… that it was a lie.”
“Bullshit ya did,” Kanji says, “Don’t even say that. There’s a big difference and you’re missin’ what it is.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“That you felt it was the truth. That doesn’t make it a lie. A lie is somethin’ you tell intentionally, and that ain’t what ya did. That ain’t what any of us did. That ain’t what you did, Naoto.”
Naoto slowly looks up at him, cheeks sticky and wet. She wants to say something to counter his rationality, but at the moment, she no longer feels like lying. The last thought she has is that the fabric of his shirt is nice and soft, her face pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist as she cries herself to sleep.
She’d like to think that he holds her for the entire night, and since she can’t confirm if that’s a truth or a lie, she decides to go with truth.