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p4zine · 5 months ago

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Nostalgia Bug

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Pairing/s: Amagi Yukiko & Tatsumi Kanji

Words: 2872

My contribution to @p4zine !! :D It was so cool to work on a group project like this, everyone's work is awesome, and in the end I'm pretty happy with what I wrote too!! A Kanji&Yukiko bonding fic with childhood nostalgia and pondering about the future on the side, s'il vous plaît :3

Full text under the cut; my fics are only visible to registered users on the Archive.

Kanji was good for heavy-lifting.

Despite changing his ways, dying and restyling his hair and giving up the leather, Ma was still reluctant to let him out front when the shop was open. Tatsumi Textiles had a reputation to uphold, she said, and Kanji would have to earn back the family name. It stung, but he got it.

He knew how things worked in the back though, and had the work ethic for it. Ma wasn’t young anymore. He owed her that much.

It was Sunday, the store was closed, but there was always something to do. It wasn’t like Kanji had anything else going on. The last, purple bunny of his Rainbow Crochet Series was finished, his students wouldn’t be arriving until afternoon, and homework could always wait. But yesterday had been hectic, and the new arrivals weren’t quite in their right places yet. He had time to be moving boxes.

And man, if these boxes weren’t ready to be moved. Kanji soon reached the farthest corner of the store: an old storage they dumped everything they had no use for, but “might one day”. Ma could dress it up as frugality all she liked, but the truth, Kanji presumed, was more on the lines of some of it being difficult to dispose of after his old man passed.

This meant he was currently moving stuff into practical piles near the backdoor for easier pickup. He would have to ask Ma about local garbage collectors later. Or anyone that could use a miscellaneous assortment of old shit.

Kanji picked up another box from the floor with gusto, and almost fell on his ass. This one was much lighter than the others.

It also had his name in hiragana scribbled on top with a thick marker.

And oh, boy. Opening it brought a wave of tears to his eyes.

These were things he had thrown out years earlier, keepsakes he had come to deem too childish. An almost heart-shaped rock from Samegawa. His old bug catching net. A kimono-wearing doll with a porcelain head and fabric body.

Oh, Ma. She must have saved these in secret. Boxes abandoned, Kanji took the doll with him to inspect in the better lighting of the storefront. No dignity in the storage room for something of its status.

He wasn’t sure when and how he had acquired the doll, but he remembered loving it. The kimono was smooth navy silk with a leaf pattern. The doll’s hard and heavy head with carefully painted facial features working in contrast with the soft body gave it a regal feel his regular toys didn’t have. Watching the doll sitting on its shelf had felt like being in the presence of royalty, and Kanji had handled it with appropriate respect.

He could play it rough with his figurines. Being entrusted with this doll had made him feel so mature.

***

With all the reminiscing going on, Kanji almost missed the faint knock at the front door. He quickly sniffed the tears away as he got up, yelling “Shop’s closed!”, and grimaced at how harsh his tone had come out. He still had a lot to learn.

Surprisingly, the person at the door was Yukiko in her inn kimono. Had Ma mentioned anything about the Amagi Inn lately…? Surely Kanji would remember something like that.

“Uh. ‘Sup, Senpai?” Dammit. Hadn’t he promised to try being more polite? He still didn’t know how to behave when caught off guard.

Yukiko—bless her—was used to his clumsiness. She greeted Kanji with an uneasy smile, and apologized for appearing unannounced on an off day. Apparently, Mrs. Amagi thought the inn needed new towels and had sent Yukiko to scope out the selection. Mrs. Tatsumi had agreed to the arrangement and told them to borrow samples to compare at the inn.

Kanji had no idea how he had missed that. Had Ma not told him in the first place? Was he not reliable enough to even show his friends some damn towels?

Whatever.

Kanji asked Yukiko to come inside, grateful for the opportunity to look away for a second. He liked Yukiko, and they were undoubtedly friends, but… it was still a little awkward to be alone with her with no prior warning. It was the same with pretty much all of his friends (bar Souji and Naoki) but Yukiko was a bit of a special case. They had history together.

Amagi Inn and Tatsumi Textiles were both old, all-Inaba family businesses. The Inn needed textiles. They worked together a lot, and Ma and Mrs. Amagi were good friends. Kanji and Yukiko had also occasionally met as children.

It sucked to feel so out of place around someone who was technically a childhood friend.

Kanji showed Yukiko the towels, telling her to take her time.

Yukiko went to nod, but stopped midway. Her eyes lit up in delighted surprise, the awkwardness from mere seconds ago all forgotten.

“Isn’t that the doll we got you for your birthday years ago?”

Kanji followed her eyes and noticed he was still holding the damn thing.

“Uh, yeah. Found it while cleaning.”

Was there a nostalgia bug in the air or what?

***

Yukiko didn’t take too long picking out the towels. She had a good idea of what patterns and materials would suit the inn’s image and needs and her mother’s tastes. Kanji couldn’t help but admire it. He had always taken Yukiko for a bit of an airhead, but she had clearly been paying attention. Her assortment was aesthetically consistent, the fabrics sturdy material that would keep their feel for a long time even after frequent washing. She was well on her way to becoming a fine manager.

Yukiko gathered everything into a neat pile and lifted it onto her arms. The pile of towels reached well past her chin. The positioning of her arms didn’t look comfortable either. Her kimono would restrict her leg movement.

Kanji was good for heavy-lifting.

“Sooo… d’ya need help carrying all that back?”

Yukiko hoisted the pile a little. “Thank you, but I think I’ll manage.”

Sure she would.

“Come on, Senpai, let me help. Ain’t got much else to do.”

Yukiko’s eyes flickered from the top of the towel pile, to kanji, to her feet. She sighed a little, taking a careful step closer.

“Thank you. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

***

The walk to the inn was mostly quiet, but at least the feeling of doing something of importance made it less daunting.

Yukiko broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Helping out the family business is tough, isn’t it.” It was a neutral statement, but Yukiko had a faraway look in her eyes that Kanji couldn’t quite parse. He grunted something in response. “Still. It can be rewarding, too,” she continued, “and I don’t want to run anymore. I want the inn to prosper, and it’s up to me to make sure it does."

She sighed, barely noticeably. "Still… I‘m expected to be so proper in my free time, too. Sometimes I would like to let my hair down."

Kanji was puzzled. Was that why Yukiko kept her hair in a bun these days? He knew the Amagi Inn took pride in tradition, but to such an extent?

"Seriously? Is even your hairstyle that important?"

Yukiko glanced at him. Her eyes crinkled at their corners, her lips quivered, and she let out a decidedly uncute snort.

"Ghhsnrk! Kanji-kun, I didn't mean it literally! It's an expression!"

She guffawed—actually guffawed—thankfully unaware of how furiously Kanji was blushing.

Having fun was preferable to awkward silence, but damn, if Kanji hadn't embarrassed himself in front of a senior enough times already.

Eventually, Yukiko settled back down. Wiping her eyes, she extended a question to Kanji: “But you know what I mean, right? Don’t you also help out at the textile store these days?”

Kanji nodded. “Yeah. Ma won’t let me sell shit, but I know how most of it works. ‘Cept the math side of things, I guess.” Kanji had neither the talent nor the will to figure out pricing; so far he’d made his little crafts for free, content to be paid in praise. He barely knew what taxes were. He didn’t know much about who their suppliers were, nor how and how much they paid them.

He would have to learn all of that sooner or later. Dammit. And all the customer service stuff, too; people were less afraid of him now with his more conservative look, but his demeanor was brash as ever.

He wondered if it was possible to take a leaf out of Yukiko’s book. They seemed to be opposites in that way; Kanji hid his sensitive soul under layers of masculine roughness, while Yukiko’s refined, feminine front concealed surprising edge and humor.

Then again, Yukiko didn’t seem to be doing it on purpose. At least not to the extreme Kanji did.

Maybe he would just have to keep doing what he was doing.

***

They eventually reached the inn and Yukiko showed Kanji to the textile storage room. This was the first time Kanji saw the staff side of another business, and their difference in scope was obvious. Everything at the inn was so much sleeker, more polished. Despite both Amagi Inn and Tatsumi Textiles doubling as family homes, the inn had none of the homey shabbiness their store did. It was traditional, but not old-fashioned.

The only thing they had in common were the textiles. Kanji recognized many of the designs. The ones he did and those he didn’t were all high quality, neatly arranged and sorted.

Being near fabrics always filled Kanji with inspiration to create. Mesmerized, he tried the feel of some clean linen close to the table they had left the towel samples on. His head swirled with ideas of what he could make with it given the chance.

Yukiko watched him admire her family’s property with another unreadable face, shuffling nervously. Eventually she cleared her throat to ask: “Do you think you could... Teach me? About sewing, I mean.”

Kanji blinked. Didn’t they teach that shit in home ec?

“Don’t they teach that shit in home ec?” he asked.

“I’ve missed many lessons,” replied Yukiko, “because of manager practice. And, truth be told… the teacher is a bit scary.” She blushed lightly at her admission. “I’m not terrible at it, but I could use more practice.”

Kanji considered the offer. Yukiko probably wouldn’t need to know how to make clothing from scratch. Maybe if she were to have chil—

Scratch that. Too soon. Bad idea. Kanji mentally slapped himself on the cheek. He would not imagine his friends growing up and having kids. Too weird.

He could teach Yukiko better mending and patching. Yeah. Back on topic.

“Ok, sure. Let’s meet at my place when you have the time.”

***

They met up at the Tatsumis a few days later. Ma prepared them cut-up fruit and tea and left them to their task, a soft, pleased smile in her eyes.

Kanji had decided to start with a stitch to repair clothing discreetly. Yukiko was a conscientious student, focusing intently and nodding at everything Kanji said and did. Soon enough she started trying it out in practice. Kanji instructed her at first and, seeing that she was indeed not terrible at it, went back to his own sewing.

“We ran away to play when the adults weren’t looking.”

“Huh?”

Kanji lifted his gaze from his work to find Yukiko gazing wistfully at his old doll, now sitting on a dresser. She wore the same wistful expression from earlier.

“At your party. Don’t you remember?”

Of course Kanji did. “Yeah. The adults were being boring, so we ran off to play at the shrine.”

Yukiko snorted. “That was so reckless.” Her stitch was longer than the last, and shorter than the one before that, but Kanji didn’t comment on it. They seemed like they would hold up well enough. First try was always a first try; fine-tuning would come later.

“Thinking back, it almost feels like that little Yukiko was a different person.”

Kanji couldn’t help but agree.

Before Dad died and everything went to shit, Kanji had been so… free. Other kids had already looked at him weird, but at least he hadn’t been a pain in the ass to his folks. At home, and at the shop, he had been able to admire the pretty colors and nice textures of fabric without shame. He had enjoyed sewing lessons with Ma with no restraint.

And even when Dad had chastised him for crying, he had done so with more love than scorn.

Kanji wondered if he could ever go back to being so open.

The sewing continued in comfortable silence.

“Ow!” Yukiko pricked her finger and stuck it into her mouth.

“That’s not very ladylike, Senpai," said Kanji, and asked to take a look. It wasn’t bleeding; just an average, everyday prick that seemed to happen inevitably at some point. Yukiko furrowed her brows as she inspected her finger.

“I wonder if we could do it again.”

“What?”

“Oh, no, it would cause trouble, wouldn’t it?”

Kanji took a second to process. Ah. She was still thinking about their stunt from back then.

Logistically, it wouldn’t be too hard. In fact, it might be easier now that they were bigger. Yukiko could definitely use the release of doing something fun and dumb. And, shit, so could Kanji.

***

“This is a bad idea.”

“It’ll only be for a while! Besides, there’s nobody around at this time.”

Kanji had Yukiko pegged for someone more cautious, but maybe she did have her thoughtless moments. There was something comforting about that.

They were at the shrine, where they had played hide and seek after escaping that fateful party. The adults had been furious at their little escape act after they had been found sitting on the roof, unable to get down.

That part shouldn’t be as big of an obstacle now. Hopefully.

They had circled to the back of the shrine where there were trees to hold onto. Reaching between them and the shrine’s walls would be easy for someone of Kanji’s stature, and Yukiko was probably tall enough to pull it off too. Kanji still planned on keeping an eye on her, just to be sure.

His eyes landed on the offertory box. He only ever visited the shrine for New Year’s; it only occurred to him now that it was indeed a holy place all year round. Maybe their parents hadn’t only been angry at them for endangering themselves, but also for disrespecting such a site.

This was an even worse idea than he had previously thought.

He voiced this thought out loud. Yukiko was caught off guard, and quickly started looking around. She was not willing to let this go just yet.

“I wonder if the prayer stand would support our weight… Or we could climb one of the trees?”

Kanji sighed. “If we’re really doing this, let’s just cross the street to the old hobby shop. It’s empty, and we’ll be hidden behind it.”

And so they did. The shop had a fire ladder, which made climbing anticlimactically easy, but at least they were finally sitting atop of something they weren’t supposed to.

They had bought snacks from Shiroku. Not looking too suspicious had proven to be difficult; Kanji’s nerves manifested as a mean scowl, and Yukiko had more than a bit of a hard time keeping her giggles under control. “Doing something forbidden is so exciting!” she had whispered, making Kanji look over his shoulder to Lady Shiroku. She had seemed occupied, and Kanji had relaxed into fondness for his friend’s childlike glee. Snow Queen, his ass.

Yukiko struggled with her ramune bottle; the roof didn’t provide an even surface to push the cap down against. Kanji extended his hand, and Yukiko passed the bottle to him. No words were necessary when Kanji clinked the glass ball into its rightful nook and passed the bottle back. Smiles successfully filled the role of both “thank you” and “you’re welcome”.

The silence between them stayed comfortable.

Yukiko was the first to break it again. She pointed at a house in the distance. “I think that’s Watanabe-san’s house,” she said, “one of our cleaning staff.” Her smile had a tint of wistfulness to it. “Her son started school this spring. I still remember when he was born so clearly.”

“That’s crazy,” said Kanji, and meant it. His carefree childhood seemed both like yesterday and light years ago. Last year had packed several years’ worth of events, yet been over in a flash. Even sitting with Yukiko doing crafts was like both a minute ago and last week. Time worked strangely.

***

“What the hell are you kids doing up there?!”

“Oh shit!”

Kanji and Yukiko winced and ducked. That was Detective Dojima’s authoritative voice.

“Kanji, I can see the top of your head! Get down here right this instant!”

Curse his height. Even though they were close to the roof’s lower edge…

The two adventurers had no choice but to climb down and face the music. Just like before.

It was fun while it lasted.

#contributor pieces #p4 zine #thatlittledandere

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