Chapter Text
Dojima needed a drink. Badly. Unfortunately, he didn't have that luxury. A smoke might've eased the edge, too, but here in the clean, sterile hall of the Yasoinaba Children's Guidance Center, he'd never even considered it. It was late. A quick glance at the clock behind him revealed the time: 10:30 PM. He'd pulled later shifts in his time on the force, but for a child…
He heaved a labored sigh, brushing his fingers over the stubble on his chin. Through the small window on the door in front of him, he made out the form of a woman in a black dress with her hair pulled into a bun. Across the table sat a young boy, about twelve, hunched over with his honey brown bangs dangling over his wine red eyes.
Dojima glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, containing all the relevant information for this case. The name? Goro Akechi, a boy born in Shinjuku, orphaned by his mother's suicide. That alone made Dojima's fingers tighten around the clipboard's edge, but it got so much worse.
An illegitimate child, no doubt marked as such in the goddamned koseki. Passed from foster home to foster home before he landed here in Inaba… Worst of all, his sickly thin figure coupled with the visible bruise around one of his eyes proved that his latest 'home,' if you could call it that, was hardly hospitable.
Which was how he landed here, of course. …Well, not the full reason.
Dojima still remembered getting that fateful phone call.
It was another late night, gulping down a cup of black coffee as he flipped through the files of the hit and run case that stole his wife away. A slow night, otherwise; crime in Inaba was generally scarce, with the worst tasks for the local PD ranging from lost pets to petty theft under most circumstances. This case was different, though. The damn bastard robbed his daughter of a mother, robbed Dojima of the love of his life, and ever since…
Ring, ring! He dropped what he was doing straight away, grabbing the phone and saying, "Inaba PD. This is Dojima speaking."
The voice that answered nearly made him fumble the receiver. "H—Hey, uh. I know I ain't exactly on the best terms with you cops, but I got somethin' huge to report. Somethin' seriously fucked up."
"Kanji Tatsumi?" He couldn't even hide the shock in his voice. Kanji, local troublemaker, who'd been busting biker gangs and stirring up a fuss whenever anyone so much as looked at his mom the wrong way… He was the last person Dojima ever expected to turn to law enforcement. "Okay. What's the emergency?" For him to call, it must've been serious, and Dojima knew better than to instigate a conflict with a kid like him.
He could hear Kanji draw a shaky breath over the phone before speaking. "Look, there's this kid. Been seein' him for a little while now, but he's frail. Got some bruises. I'm with 'im right now, and he's locked outta his own house! He told me not to worry about it, and that's just makin' me worry more! Ain't there somethin' you can do?"
Child abuse, right under Dojima's nose. As a father, however absentee he could be with his work, there was no way he could turn a blind eye. His voice sharpened as he spoke, "Listen, Kanji. I'm gonna need an address. Can you do that for me? Tell the kid it's okay and he's not in trouble."
"...Yeah. I'll give you the address. Thanks."
With that one phone call, Dojima kickstarted the investigation that would lead to that boy's removal. And a good thing, too. One look around the house was telling enough. The kid had a sparse room, barely any clothes, and only a few small possessions, like a red, white, and blue toy gun he seemed to hide from his damnable guardians. After the boy was removed and brought to the guidance center, Dojima soon learned that this was hardly the first time he'd been locked out.
"He says that his foster parents often leave him behind to visit the Amagi Inn," his case worker said. "The poor dear. It's a good thing you got that phone call." She stepped aside, bowing her head. "He'll see you now."
Behind Dojima, another man sighed. Tohru Adachi, unlike Dojima's more muscled form, was about as skinny as a stick, with unkempt black hair, whose suit and tie looked almost comically outta place with his pouting face.
"Man… I still don't know how you talked me into this. This is a lawyer's job, not a cop's."
Adachi's flippancy warped Dojima's face into a glare. "If you think it's acceptable to half-ass a job like this, you should reevaluate your career. This is a kid we're talking about." Not that it surprised Dojima that he'd be eager to walk away. In the short time Dojima had known Adachi, he'd often questioned how a guy like him even made it this far.
But that was a question for another time. Right now, he had a kid to worry about, so he approached the door and braced himself for what was sure to be a rocky meeting. Call him sentimental, but he had to see this through, not just for followup on the initial investigation, but for the kid's sake, too. That night, when they removed the boy from that broken home, he had such a clouded, dead look in his eyes. Head hanging, he'd silently approached the police car, as if this was an old song and dance.
Constantly moving from place to place, never knowing a home… Dojima couldn't even imagine, but he knew what it was like for a child to lose their mother. He'd seen it with Nanako, and for as much as Dojima struggled to connect with her, at least he was there.
As Dojima approached the door, a thought crept into his mind, but first, he had to meet the kid. This affected him just as much, and he deserved the final say.
The woman left Akechi in silence for at least a few minutes. When the door swung shut, he deflated with a sigh, resting his chin on his arms, draped over the table. He knew how this would go. The police would interview him, no doubt. He'd have to be pleasant. Polite. Then they'd proceed with their case, and Akechi would find himself sent off to another damnable home. Some might say he should be happy, that this was a chance at a new, happy life…
Akechi knew better. In the end, one of many things could happen. The home might seem pleasant at first, until the parents realized just how broken Akechi was, or how difficult it was to raise a child, and so they'd send him off to the next home. Or perhaps he'd end up in another overcrowded orphanage with overworked and underpaid staff who could never give children the individualized care they needed. Worst case scenarios… ha. Was this latest home even his worst?
He hadn't known a single moment of happiness since he arrived here until…
Akechi reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small, knitted crow. For reasons even he couldn't fully comprehend, he cradled it close to his chest.
That night was… different.
He was out that evening, wandering aimlessly. After school, he'd found the house locked. A regular occurrence. And so, like the dead, he shambled aimlessly down the rural streets, past shuttered shops and vending machines. With nothing but a stained T-shirt and worn down slacks, he proceeded forward to… honestly, he wasn't even sure. The thought of breaking into one of the shops bearing a 'closed' sign in their window crossed his mind. Driven out of business by Junes, he had heard.
A superstore in a small town… of course it'd be the death knell for family businesses.
But as he lingered outside what used to be a model shop, footsteps approached. Akechi bristled, hands reflexively balling into fists as he swiveled around to face—
A very tall, muscled teenager with a scar over his left eyebrow, several piercings, bleached blond hair, and a necklace made of bullets. His imposing figure was enough to drive Akechi back, but the leather jacket only added to his intimidating appearance. Was this it, then? Was this boy going to take advantage of his vulnerability? Perhaps vent his frustrations at society on him, as others had before?
…Evidently not, as the boy's expression softened, and he crouched down, closer to Akechi's level. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, at complete odds with his appearance. "Hey, easy. I ain't gonna hurt ya."
"Ah." What a pathetic response. Akechi slowed his breathing, trying to smooth down his hair to the best of his abilities. Easier said than done, when he couldn't even access a shower right now. "What do you want with me?"
"Nothin'. 's just… y'look kinda lost."
"I'm fine." An obvious lie, but a well-worn defense he'd used to try and shut down unwanted pity.
"Yeah? Well, ya don't look fine," the boy said without even a moment's hesitation. "Look… I've been in my share of scraps, but I'm a tough guy." He reached for Akechi's face, but stopped when Akechi flattened his back against the shop's wall. "Sorry. Just noticed that black eye. And your clothes, man… What're your folks thinkin'?"
"My 'folks'... That's a charitable description." The bitterness dripping from every syllable seemed to alarm the older boy, as he winced and averted his eyes.
Then, to Akechi's further surprise, the boy's own hands clenched into fists, and he locked eyes with Akechi with renewed intensity. "So they did this to ya," he practically growled.
It was… strange, seeing a total stranger so invested. What did it matter to him? He could turn the other way and let life continue forward. What did one bastard child's suffering mean? People often shut out what inconvenienced them. What did he have to gain?
Broken laughter squeezed its way out of him, and Akechi shook his head. "And if they did?"
"I'll pummel those bastards!" Such fire. Such conviction. All this, for someone he barely knew. Strange…
Akechi set a hand on his hip, sighing. "It would be your word versus the prosecutors and my guardians. Our legal system thrives on a guilty before proven innocent mindset, and you'd end up in juvie or, at best, probation if you tried." He scoffed at the mere image of those vile rats in human form twisting the law around their fingers. "I'm a living welfare check, and they won't relinquish me so easily."
Why was Akechi telling him this? Truth be told, he wasn't sure. Perhaps it was simply the need to vent his loathing, and this thuggish stranger simply provided an outlet. A chance to gauge reactions, to see someone else view those so-called 'foster parents' for what they truly were. A chance for his suffering to be seen for a change. Yes, that was sound enough. The boy had approached Akechi with at least some semblance of concern. This is what he had gotten himself into.
Would he stay, or would Akechi drive him away as reality set in, and the boy realized what he was getting himself into?
Evidently not. The boy remained. He maintained his eye contact with Akechi, and his glare only sharpened. "I can't ignore that, kid. I know it ain't any of my business, but shit, man! You're just a kid. It ain't fair for you to put up with that crap."
"Since when is life fair? To be frank, I'm used to it." He walked away. The boy followed, because of course he would. If anything, this was another challenge. An opportunity to test the boy's conviction.
With his added height, it wasn't long before he caught up, easily matching Akechi's strides. "Yeah, well, I ain't gonna let that slide."
Ha. How bold. "And what will you do?"
"Well, for starters, I ain't lettin' you walk home on your own. If ya show me where you're livin', maybe I can do somethin' about it."
"I already told you—"
The boy shook his head. "Naw, man. I know I can't really take 'em on, but if I know where you're at, I can at least get someone else to step in. Maybe act as a witness, y'know?"
The implication wasn't lost on Akechi. He was going to call the cops. Have his living system investigated… And then what? If he succeeded, no doubt Akechi would get sent to the next home on the list, with no guarantee it'd be better.
Still, he made no protest as he led the boy toward the hellscape he called 'home.'
"You're so strange."
"...Yeah, I get that a lot." Why did he sound so hurt?
"It's not a bad thing. You're the first person in this godforsaken town to even notice what I'm going through." At the very least, he noticed it for more charitable reasons. Not to talk down to Akechi. Not to laugh at how frail he looked, or how pathetic it was that he couldn't even find one stable home that would stick.
This boy, a total stranger, threatened to enact his own justice without thinking it through. One might call it reckless, but on the other hand…
He remembered clutching a box containing a toy gun in vibrant red, white, blue, and gold. It read, 'One for all, all for justice!'
That day, his grin overtook his face, and he loudly proclaimed, "With this, I can also become an ally of justice!"
Akechi stopped, breathing through clenched teeth. It was… at one point he might've found it novel. To act so freely, following one's heart and doing the 'right' thing… but the world was far from kind to those who acted out of line. Why was he so invested in a stranger's struggles? This boy's appearance struck Akechi as more of an antihero at best, but was it possible that he actually had a virtuous heart buried beneath the leather and rough exterior?
…If so, he was woefully naive.
"You okay, kid?"
"...It's nothing." He pressed on. The rest of their walk proceeded rather quietly, as the tightly packed shops gave way to little more than a lonely gas station. They turned the corner, past the bus stop, though as they departed, Akechi thought for the briefest of moments that someone was watching him.
He glanced over his shoulder. A man with wavy, silver hair, a red cap, and matching uniform smiled from the gas station… or so he thought. As soon as Akechi blinked, the man was gone. Perhaps it was just his imagination.
Eventually, the shopping district gave way to wilderness. Trees lined the roads. Rolling hills stretched along the horizon, and further back, mountains. Then that same wilderness gave way to clustered houses. Some shone with warm light within their windows. Many, no doubt, contained happy families who knew not the evils of the world as Akechi had. How fortunate. How… ignorant.
In time, they walked up the driveway to one isolated house. Only darkness resided within those windows. The sour stench of alcohol made Akechi squirm, bottles poking out of the garbage can. So wasteful, when they could have recycled…
He led the boy up to the door and tried opening it, to no avail. It would not slide, locked firmly into place, just as Akechi had anticipated. Digging his fingers into his hair, he fell back against the locked door and gazed aimlessly at the night sky.
"This ain't the first time, is it?" the boy asked.
"No. I'm an 'ungrateful inconvenience,' so this is their way of punishing me. I'm like a rusty nail they're so desperate to hammer into place."
"...They're punishing you."
"Yes. But at least it isn't raining this time."
That boy's fists trembled, but he stopped himself, took a deep breath, and dug into the pocket of his jacket. What happened next was… strange, to say the least.
He cupped something in his hand, then turned to Akechi. "Here. I know it ain't much, but maybe it'll make you feel better."
A gift? …But they'd only just met. Had he actually prepared for this? Akechi hesitated, but it wasn't as though he had anything to lose, and the number of possessions he owned anymore was slim at best. So, fine. He held out his hand, and the boy placed his gift into Akechi's palm.
It was… a small, knitted crow plush, of all things. "I…" Okay. He needed to compose himself. This was fine. Generous, even. What sort of ulterior motive would drive one to do such a thing? "You bought this for me?"
"Didn't buy it." The boy looked away, hands buried deep in his pockets. "I, uh… made it for ya."
"Excuse me?" he blurted out, far louder than he meant to, but… "You made me a gift. You… knew about me…"
Was he shaking? Oh no. Akechi squeezed his eyes shut, taking a breath so deep his lungs surely inflated to maximum capacity. As the air released in a sigh, the jittery feeling in his chest did not subside.
This was so much in so little time.
"...Yeah. I saw you a couple a times. Didn't know what to say at first, so I thought I'd wait it out and see if things got better. But they didn't, and nobody was doin' a damn thing to help ya."
Damn it. Such brazen sentimentality! Akechi squeezed his eyes shut. Rubbed one of his temples with his thumb. This was not the time to lose composure.
And yet, without even meaning to, he slid down to the ground, seated on the stoop of a home he'd give anything to escape from.
"...I don't understand how you can be so kind. What do you have to gain from this?"
"Hey, this ain't about me, kid. It's all you."
Could someone really, honestly be so selfless? Akechi sat silently, mind racing at this boy's strange compassion. The sort of compassion you only saw in media but never experienced in real life. The aspirational heroism of the Phoenix Feathermen, perhaps, or literary heroes, but a fantasy at best…
But to the boy's credit, he sat beside Akechi even as he made the call. He waited until the police arrived, never leaving his side…
But now that boy wasn't here. Akechi was alone again, waiting for the lead detective to walk through the door.
The door opened, and he blearily lifted his head. The man walked in, broad-shouldered with short, greyish-black hair and distinct stubble on his chin. There were notable bags beneath his eyes, suggesting a lack of sleep. Then again, it was late, and he was a police detective, if memory served. The red tie around his neck stood out against his otherwise grey and black attire, and as the man sat across from Akechi, the air itself seemed to thicken with tension.
The detective, despite everything, cracked a small smile. "Hey. You holding up okay?"
Akechi rested his chin in his arms again. "I already know how this goes. You'll ask me a few questions, and then you'll leave. I'll be told with an insufferably saccharine smile that everything is okay and I'll be sent off to a 'new and better' home that will be equally abhorrent in its own way, and the cycle will continue until I graduate middle school and am left to fend for myself."
It almost delighted Akechi to see the detective's grimace. Was he expecting youthful optimism, perhaps? Graciousness that he and his men had brought the 'evildoers' to justice? As if life were ever that simple.
The detective's face turned downcast. "...Been through the wringer, huh?"
Akechi's smirk waned, silence overtaking him.
The detective continued, "It's okay. You don't have to talk if you're not comfortable, but the more information you can give me, the better we can follow up on our investigation."
"For the paycheck."
"For justice. I'm a dad, you know. Can't stand seeing kids in your position, and there's at least one kid who feels the same way." A wry sort of smile unfurled. "Be a real shame if you had to say goodbye."
"...But what choice do I have?" Akechi hated how easily those words escaped him. "I appreciate what he did for me, but unless, by pure happenstance, another qualified home exists in Inaba, I won't be staying." His eyes slid shut, and another sigh escaped him. "In the end, it was a futile endeavor."
"Not necessarily," the detective said, and his voice was strangely… warm? "I might be able to arrange something for you. You'll be safe, and you can continue living here without having to worry about any more abuse."
Akechi scoffed, straightening in his seat. "Do you really think I'm that naive?"
"Of course not. You've been through more than any kid your age should ever have to deal with. I understand that trust doesn't come easy. But if you're willing to take a chance, I can give you a home. You wouldn't be the only kid there, either."
This was… was this some sort of joke? Akechi raised an eyebrow, leaning over the table as if challenging the detective's claims. "You barely know me. What makes you so confident that you can handle another child?"
"I deal with criminals on a regular basis."
"Which is hardly comparable to raising a kid."
"I know, but I doubt that you're half as bad, even at your worst."
"Ever the optimist, are we?" Akechi chuckled. That detective's confidence was almost adorable, really.
"Hardly." His comment, it seemed, brought the detective some amusement, as he chuckled right back. "But I can't overlook how this abuse happened in my town, and I know how fucked up this country's foster system is."
"Swearing in front of a child!" Akechi feigned a gasp. "...How lucky for you that I'm numb to such things. So, you see me as an opportunity to atone for your own ignorance?"
The detective's eyes narrowed for a moment, but a fleeting one. His facial features soon relaxed, and his voice remained ever composed. "I see this as an opportunity to help a broken kid get back on his feet. If there's even a chance this'll happen in some other town, I want to do what I can to prevent that."
Akechi turned his focus to the wall, if only to escape the detective's unwavering gaze. This was… a conundrum. If Akechi refused, there was no guarantee he'd ever get another opportunity like this. On the other hand, this man was a cop. If it turned out he was a wolf in sheep's clothing, Akechi would surely be trapped, as his position would shield him from scrutiny, no doubt.
On the other hand, he had endured so much as it stood. This man had a daughter, but that meant he was a father. Fathers… were a delicate subject. His own damnable 'dad' abandoned him and his mother, left them to languish in poverty. This man…
He did not know Akechi. He did not know how twisted, bitter, and broken he was, or perhaps he didn't care. He watched unflinchingly, waited patiently. He didn't simply agree to it without Akechi's consent. He had the decency to let him choose…
It could still end in disaster. Akechi didn't want to lower his guard. People were often two-faced, putting on a pleasant front to obtain what they wanted. Extra financial cushioning for a single father was certainly an enticing idea? But if that was all it was, why bother with such pleasantries?
…That was it, then, wasn't it? How foolishly hopeful. But then, these past few days had already defied Akechi's expectations, and at least this way, he could see that boy again.
Sighing, he returned his focus to the detective. "...Fine. We'll do it your way. My bar for parental decency is so low, perhaps you'll actually be an improvement."
"Ha. Well, at least you're honest." Shaking his head, the detective draped one arm over the table and said, "Now, if you can just answer a few followup questions, we can move toward wrapping up this case."
Dojima left the interview room with a few confirmations that aligned with their investigation. Evidently, the kid's foster parents took him in for the welfare checks and got more than they bargained for. They'd regularly walk out on him and either leave town or crash at the Amagi Inn. The locked doors were punishment for being an 'ungrateful brat.' Textbook case of abuse and neglect, and to think it was happening right under his nose…
As he left the room, Adachi turned to him, incredulous. "I don't get why you're so invested. Just give it a rest and let the case worker take it from here."
"And let him get shipped off to another town with no guarantee he'll do any better? I don't think so."
"Wow." Adachi snickered. "I never knew you were such a softy, Dojima-san."
Maybe under better circumstances, Dojima would quip back, but tonight? And after Adachi's earlier remarks? No.
"How 'bout I cut your pay? Then we'll see who's 'soft.'" The way Adachi gulped, shrinking back at Dojima's words, almost made him smirk. Instead, he retained a stone cold scowl, though the edge in his voice dulled oh so slightly. "Neither one of us has had it half as rough as he has. Born out of wedlock, mother committed suicide. He's gone from orphanages to foster homes, never knowing stability."
Adachi blurted out another laugh, airy and incredulous. "What, so you're gonna take him in?"
"I'm certified." Judging by the way Adachi's eyes popped wide open and he took a step back, he clearly didn't see this coming.
"You serious?"
"Yeah. Before Nanako was born, we thought about being foster parents." His heart wrenched at the memory. If Chisato was still alive, she'd be begging to bring him home, hold him close, and wipe away his tears. Her heart was so open and warm, and then—
In a flash, one idiot driver tore her away from her family.
Dojima shut his eyes, breathing in, then out. No need to get fired up now. This was his chance to honor his wife's memory and save a kid from an uncertain future.
Adachi, on the other hand, responded dryly. "But now you have a daughter, and you've barely got enough time for her. No way you can afford to take on a charity case like this."
Of course he'd call it a charity case. Adachi was young, single, and just barely competent enough to hold his position as assistant detective. A guy like him would never understand… at least, not yet. Maybe if he found the right woman and settled down. Then again, whoever he wound up with would certainly have her hands full…
Despite the warning, Dojima cracked a crooked smile. "I'll make it work. The kid's a sharp one, so just giving him a stable home might be all he really needs." Not that Dojima planned to desert him, but there was a fire in those red eyes that even he couldn't ignore. Would he even want to be doted on, or was it better to give him some space? There was a lot to consider, but he'd already made up his mind.
Adachi threw up his hands, sighing loudly. "Yeah? Well, don't complain to me if you get more than you bargained for."
With the interview concluded, Dojima went to meet with the case worker and revealed his plans to her. Relief washed over her face when he offered to take the kid in, probably in part due to the lack of reaching out to other prospective homes. Keeping him in Inaba would cut back on the paperwork, and his stable income as a detective and involvement in the investigation certainly didn't hurt.
It'd take a few days to finalize everything, but this was a promising start.
This was really happening.
At long last, Akechi had left that godforsaken guidance center and breathed his first whiff of fresh air in days. Now, seated in the passenger seat of Ryotaro Dojima's car, he watched the buildings disappear into the distance, giving way to more trees and grassland. It was a funny sort of feeling, perhaps a bit bittersweet? He was 'safe' now. He didn't have to leave Inaba…
But he still didn't know if he could trust this man, even after he'd so graciously offered to take him in.
Perhaps it was foolish to ask this after all that they had discussed, yet the words came anyway. "So, what's the catch?"
Dojima frowned, turning the corner. "Why does there have to be a catch, kid?"
"There's always a catch. You said that you're doing this for my benefit, but I'm not stupid. By taking me in, you will get financial compensation. No doubt you'll be hailed as a town hero for taking in the poor bastard child that nobody wanted."
Was it harsh? Perhaps, but this was just another test. A chance to gauge Dojima's character, to see what made him tick. It was important to be able to read and assess other people, partially because it fascinated Akechi, and partially for his own self-preservation. If he could read and predict others, he could adapt accordingly.
Dojima groaned, soft enough that less astute listeners might not have even noticed. "The money will help, sure, but all that cash is for your benefit. I won't squander it on vacations like your previous foster parents."
So he said.
"I don't care about social clout. If they wanna call me a hero, that's their choice, and it won't change the way I treat you."
The familiar sight of stone walls and metal fences surrounding roadside houses closed in. Pleasant outdoor gardens, windows aglow as they were the night that everything changed… Akechi's heart nearly dropped to the pit of his stomach. On pure impulse, he coiled his fingers around his seatbelt. He wasn't going back there. This was fine.
He spoke to keep his mind occupied more than anything else. "How charitable, but I'll be the one to judge whether your actions are truly sincere."
Rather than complain, Dojima simply said, "I figured it might take some time for you to trust me. Can't say I blame you. I just hope that with time, you can find some small comfort here."
The car rolled up to a rather ordinary looking home. Two stories, with a sliding front door. A red mailbox affixed to the stone wall to the left of the doorway. To the right of the house, a metal gate slid open, and Dojima parked the car in place.
He left the vehicle first, walking around to the back and opening the trunk. There, a suitcase containing Akechi's few belongings waited. "Well? You comin'?"
"...Yes. Just a moment." This was it, then. Akechi unfastened his seatbelt and slid out the door. As he vacated Dojima's white car, he looked the house up and down. It seemed… spacious. Would he get a proper bedroom here, or would he have to share with Dojima's daughter?
He had a daughter, but Akechi knew little else, from her age to her disposition. There were so many unknown variables here, but he'd already agreed. There was no turning back.
After giving him a quick glance, Dojima approached the front of the house. Quite a sight it was, with his jacket draped over his left shoulder and that suitcase in his right hand. Well, at least until he set it down to open the door. "Nanako, we're home."
"Oh! Welcome back," came a little voice inside the house. It was light, bubbly, and high pitched. Definitely a younger child, then, though it was difficult to make her out with Dojima's imposing figure in the way.
He stepped aside soon after, and the girl in question poked her head outside. She watched Akechi with wide, brown eyes, matching her equally brown hair tied up in two little pigtails. She wore a sleeveless, red and pink dress over a white turtleneck and little pink shoes. Her head tilted, and she took one tentative step outside.
Akechi averted his eyes, cheeks slightly warm. It was awkward, being sized up by what he could only assume was a young grade schooler.
But just as swiftly as he looked away, the girl breached his bubble and greeted him with a cheery, "Hi! I'm Nanako."
The sudden outburst made him lean back, if only to gain a bit of distance. She was so… eager? They didn't even know each other, and she smiled up at him as if they were old friends.
Clearing his throat, Akechi tried to seize control of the situation and bowed. "...Hello." There was no reason to be startled by a little kid. That was absurd.
It seemed his reaction wasn't lost to her, however, as her smile steadily waned. "Are you okay? Dad says, um… He told me you're gonna be staying with us now."
Dojima approached her from behind. "Easy, Nanako. He's had a rough couple of days."
Swiveling around, Nanako peered up at her father and said, "How come?" How… innocent. He must not have given her the full story, then.
A part of Akechi wanted to bite back with some catty remark, but… No. This was a little girl. A little girl who still held the wide-eyed innocence that had long since been torn from Akechi's heart and stomped into dust. Against his better judgment, he instead said, "I was held captive by some villains. Your father… saved me."
How… childish, and overly simple, but perhaps not entirely untrue. It was the simplest explanation for a child so young, anyway, that left out all the unpleasant particulars.
Seemed it did the trick, too, as Nanako's bright smile returned, and she clapped her hands. "Wow! Does that mean you're a superhero now?"
A sheepish sort of smirk formed along Dojima's lips, and he shook his head. "I couldn't have done it without that Tatsumi kid. He's the real hero for tipping us off."
"Tatsumi…" Come to think of it, Akechi never did get that boy's name.
"Yeah. Kanji Tatsumi. Honestly, good on him for making the call. It's a step up from all those times he tried tussling with the local biker gangs."
"Wow. He sounds really tough!" said Nanako, and Akechi couldn't disagree. With a build like his, it was no surprise he'd brawled before. He'd even admitted as much that night.
"Tough, but a real hothead," Dojima said. "Still, he's got a good heart. This kid's living proof of that."
"That's good! But, um… You look really tired." She leaned closer, sniffing. "And you could probably use a shower."
"Nanako!"
"I'm not trying to be mean! I just want him to know he can use it if he wants."
…So blunt, in a way that only children could be. Ah, it was refreshing how honest she was, though. Akechi brushed his fingers over a lock of hair. So greasy. He probably smelled terrible, too. The promise of a warm bath certainly was alluring, all things considered.
Ah, but she didn't even know his name. "...Akechi."
"Huh?" Her eyes blinked wide open again, no doubt taken aback by his sudden outburst.
That was all right. She seemed… fine? Pleasant enough. "My name is Goro Akechi."
This girl was so easily pleased, judging by the way she beamed the very moment he finished speaking. "It's nice to meet you, um…" She paused, looking at her father again. "Should I just call him Akechi-kun?"
"For now. We don't wanna push him outside his comfort zone."
"Okay. Then, it's nice to meet you, Akechi-kun!"
So polite. Nothing stopped her from jumping straight to using his first name without an honorific. Well, so far, first impressions weren't terrible. A girl this cheery and well-behaved suggested at least some level of competence on Dojima's part. He wasn't about to drop his guard completely, but at the very least, this assured Akechi that accepting Dojima's offer wasn't entirely foolish.
He even smiled a little, albeit without fully meaning to.
Seemingly pleased, Dojima set his sights back on his daughter. "Hey, Nanako. Did you pick up groceries?"
"Mhm! Dinner's all ready."
That was… odd. Akechi brought a hand to his chin, watching her closely.
Unfazed, it seemed, Nanako said, "Dad can't cook, so I buy dinner." She paused. "Is soba okay?"
What a peculiar… no, familiar situation. A parent working late nights. A child forced into self-reliance at far too young an age. Was she often alone? Did she even have a mother? Just what sort of life awaited him once he walked through the front door?
Ah, but she asked a simple question. "Anything will do." His response was almost robotic, too accustomed to having to keep his head down, but not entirely ingenuine.
Moving toward the doorway, Dojima waved for him to follow. "Well, c'mon, before the food gets cold."
With no other choice, Akechi followed along, leaving the cool, evening air in favor of his new home.
One step through the door, and he immediately surveyed his surroundings. Polished, wood floor. A door down the hall he presumed led to a bathroom. Further ahead, he spotted a television, a low table, and pillows surrounding it. Well, for starters, he removed his shoes, placing them beside Dojima's as the older man carried his suitcase further inside. Nanako slipped in last, pulling the door shut and locking it behind her.
Then, giggling, she removed her own shoes and said, "C'mon, c'mon!" But wasn't she the one who suggested he shower?
Well, best to take it one step at a time. He hadn't eaten much today, as the guidance center's offerings were… plain, to put it nicely. So, pulled from his daze, he followed Nanako through the living room and took in a few more details.
First there was the kitchen area, with a refrigerator and freezer covered in all manner of paperwork. A shelf above the counter housed some pots, pans, a kettle, and a few pitchers of what Akechi could only assume were coffee. A single burner rested to the right of the sink, while to the left a tub sat with a few cups and other small dishes turned upside down to dry.
A family shrine rested on the wall above two chairs stacked with miscellaneous boxes, newspapers, and a plush panda. The leaves of two large leeks poked out of one of the boxes. Fresh produce, perhaps? Then there was the table itself, topped with a toaster, coffee maker, and another folded newspaper.
"Akechi-kun, over here!" Nanako called, drawing his focus from the kitchen over to the little table, where she'd already placed three containers of instant soba.
On the way over, Akechi glanced at the small cabinet perpendicular to the stairway, on which a vase of roses sat beside a small lamp, a cordless phone, and a calendar pinned to the wall. Soft, tatami mats made up the living room floor, and a large black couch sat against the wall parallel to the TV.
It seemed the Dojimas were relatively well off, as beneath the TV sat a combination DVD and VHS player. Wooden bear sculptures stood atop the TV, while sliding doors lined the wall behind it. All in all, a perfectly ordinary home, with only a little clutter over by the kitchen table. This was… acceptable.
Content with his findings, Akechi took a seat across from the ever excited Nanako. Dojima followed in short order, taking the place to Akechi's left. By all accounts, they could easily pass as an ordinary family.
…but he'd only just met them. They weren't a family yet.
Everyone opened their soba to let the steam escape. The subtle salted fragrance alone made Akechi's mouth water, but he restrained himself, keeping his hands busy by opening his chopsticks.
Giggling from across the table, Nanako lifted the remote and asked, "Wanna watch TV?"
She didn't even have to ask, but… "All right." No sense in arguing.
The television blinked on to Eye News, with the lead reporter, a short-haired woman in lipstick greeting viewers with her winning smile. "This is Mayumi Yamano, reporting from the central shopping district. These past few days, the town's been abuzz with news of heinous child abuse! The Inaba Police Department recently removed a young boy from a neglectful foster home, a first for our peaceful community."
Akechi hunched over the table, chopsticks trembling in his left hand.
Dojima turned to Nanako. "Change the channel."
Nanako frowned, eyes glued to the screen. "Is this about Akechi-kun?"
Miss Yamano continued, "In a shocking twist, local hooligan Kanji Tatsumi boldly leaped into action! While the police declined further comment, we're here live with this heroic young man, whose quick thinking saved a child from his continued suffering."
Nanako reached for the remote, but Akechi placed hand over it, pulling it back. "Wait."
Just in time, it seemed. The feed switched over to Kanji's familiar face, still clad in a leather jacket, that same bullet necklace… By all accounts, he looked quite out of place on the evening news. Yet, distinctly, his posture was slightly hunched, his face just a little downturned, and his eyes drifted off to the side. Was he uneasy about the sudden attention?
"Well, uh. Just thought it was shady, y'know? Ain't right for a kid to look so miserable. But I ain't a cop, so… yeah. Figured I'd at least get somebody out there to bail him outta that [BEEP]hole."
The censor beep squeezed a laugh out of Akechi, but beyond that, Kanji's gentle tone of voice further cemented the impression Akechi got from their previous encounter. Despite his rough exterior, Kanji clearly had a gentle soul. After taking a bite from his soba, Akechi dug his right hand into his pants pocket, where the soft yarn of the little crow plush served as further comfort.
Nanako's eyes remained glued to the TV. "He looks kinda scary." Despite her words, her voice lacked a harsh, judgmental edge. An uneasiness, perhaps, but one Akechi suspected came more from the dissonance between appearance and general demeanor.
Dojima spoke next, his voice gentle and calm. "Yeah. He's given us trouble before, so when I got the call, I was half-convinced it was a prank." He snickered, then paused to take another bite from his soba. "But if it weren't for Tatsumi, we'd be eating alone tonight, and he'd be stuck in an abusive home."
"Abusive…" Nanako repeated it slowly, while her face scrunched up. "That sounds really bad."
Bitter laughter burst from Akechi's lips. "...You declined to comment, even though it would have been advantageous to you." It was a stupid comment, he knew. They'd already discussed this in the car, after all, and yet he couldn't resist bringing it up. Another nudge, another test.
Dojima didn't hesitate to say, "You've been through enough. The last thing you need is a spotlight shining over you."
Akechi gave a thoughtful 'hm' at his response. "You're just full of surprises."
On the TV, Kanji deflated with a tremendous sigh. "I just hope that wherever he is, he's doin' okay." His words carried a somber edge amplified by the way his head dipped down and he once again dug his hands deep into his pockets.
So genuine. So… sincere. Akechi gulped, his throat suddenly tight. A nagging feeling welled up inside him. He had to see Kanji again. He needed to inform that boy that he was all right… at least, for now. Funny how that happened. Did he actually care? …It was the polite thing to do, at least, given the trouble that boy went to.
But that would have to wait. For now, it was time to eat.
While the broadcast went on to other subjects, such as the weather forecast, Nanako continued speaking with her father. "It'll be okay, right, Dad? The bad people aren't gonna come after him?"
"They've had their certification revoked. The rest is up to the courts. I'm sure they'll bring 'em to justice."
"Justice…" Akechi remembered his earlier comments as well. To act in favor of virtuous justice… Akechi once believed in such things without question. Now, though, it was difficult to take at face value. All the same, this night had been… pleasant, he supposed. Ordinary, he imagined, to any other child. "...Is it just the two of you?"
Dojima winced. "Yeah. My wife… passed on some time ago." The bitter undercurrent to his voice suggested there was more to it, but he chose not to elaborate. Instead, he locked eyes with Akechi. "I can't promise I'll be the best guardian, but you're safe here, all right? You can start over, live a normal life for once."
If Akechi were feeling pettier, he might point out how gossip could still shine a spotlight over him, impacting his life during his transition to middle school and disrupting any semblance of normalcy… but no, for some reason, he chose silence instead, merely nodding as he continued eating his soba and relishing in the actual sustenance it brought.
By the time he finished, he stood and bowed. "Thank you for the meal." Then, as if on autopilot, he wandered to the nearest trash can and deposited the bowl. But what now…
Unsure, he made his way over to the couch… or tried, anyway, but Dojima intercepted him by placing a hand on his shoulder.
The sudden contact froze Akechi in place.
"Now, hold on. You don't think I'd make you sleep on the couch?"
Akechi… had no response for that, which perhaps was also foolish. For all of Dojima's talk about keeping him safe and giving him a home, it was only logical to provide somewhere more suitable to sleep.
Unfortunately, many of his previous guardians failed to accommodate.
Nudging him gently away from the couch, Dojima said, "C'mon. There's an extra bedroom upstairs. Got it all ready for you over the past few days."
"That's… very kind of you, Dojima-san." Right. Of course. This was a new start. It was… fine.
"Feel free to clean up first. Got you a toothbrush, a brush for that greasy mop." He said it with an almost playful smirk, but Akechi's cheeks burned regardless, and he timidly reached for another greasy lock. "Yeah, we have shampoo for you, too."
"...And conditioner?"
"Of course."
Thank god. Akechi relaxed, turning toward the hallway, but before he moved, Dojima opened his suitcase and offered a shirt and a worn pair of plaid, flannel pants.
"We'll have to see about getting you some new clothes tomorrow. You gonna be okay in these?"
"I'm used to it," Akechi said, and he accepted the weathered pajamas without a second thought.
Bouncing to her feet, Nanako pointed toward the hallway. "The bathroom's on the right!"
And so, within moments, Akechi drenched himself in hot, steaming water, pressing his fist against the wall for balance as the weight of today's events finally struck him at full force. Any minute now, he expected to open his eyes and find himself back in that shithole, yet there he remained. Aggressively, he dug his fingers into his scalp as suds formed and cleansed the grease that had taken root.
How thankful he was for the water and the way it masked the tears leaking from his eyes.
By the time he finished, combed through his hair, and dressed himself, the waterworks had at least ended. Dojima then led him up the stairs to a room. His room. It was…
Well, like everything else in this house, it was a lot to take in, let alone accept.
A blue loveseat rested against the wall beneath the windows with a small coffee table at its feet. In the corner sat a desk with a wheeled office chair and plenty of space for books upon its wooden shelves. Across from the desk lay a futon with a freshly fluffed pillow and a folded blue comforter. On the wall parallel to the couch sat a three tier dresser beside a CRT television with a video player seated on top and more shelf space with a few sparse VHS tapes and DVDs. Lastly, a wood wardrobe rested in the remaining corner, providing ample room for any clothing acquisitions.
"And all of this is mine."
Dojima nodded from beneath the door frame. "Make yourself at home, kid."
Home… ha, now there was a novel thought. Akechi hadn't known a home since his mother died, yet as he made his way over to the futon and unfolded the comforter, even he had to admit, this was… nice. How fortunate it was that his back was turned, as tears threatened to drizzle down his cheeks again.
But no. He wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't lower his guard completely…
Still, for once in his life, even he had to admit that there was hope for his future now.