Fanfiction - Persona 4 - Making Time
Title: Making Time
Date: 090209
Fandom: Persona 4
Rating: PG
Pairing: Dojima/Adachi
Disclaimer: I’ve never been to prison. Hopefully, I won’t have to because I have this nifty disclaimer.
Feedback: Please. I’m still getting my fanfic legs. : |
Notes: See the warnings, pl0x.
Warnings: Spoilers out the ass for the True Ending of P4. OUT. THE ASS. Not even joking. There are spoilers for the all of the endings, Dojima’s social link, pretty much every social link in the game (loljk,butnotreally), and just. SPOILERS. So many, in fact, that this entire thing is going to be behind a cut.
Summary: I can’t even summarize this without spoiling. Seriously.
The long, monochromatic hallway of the Inaba prison was just as Dojima remembered. He had put many a criminal behind these bars. But never had it crossed his mind that he’d be visiting someone he had arrested.
A small "hey" was said to the guard at the entrance of his destination. The two had worked together once or twice, and even if they hadn’t, it was still polite to say hello to someone in your work field.
Dojima took in a large breath as the door to the tiny room swung open. A metal table sat in the middle of the room, on top of a slab of a plain, grey concrete floor. To the right, a large, two-way mirror graced the wall. Undoubtedly, someone would be watching them. Though you’d think that if Dojima specifically requested otherwise, they’d comply.
He guessed this was a different case, after all.
It wasn’t everyday that your best friend and most trusted partner ended up murdering two people…
Ugh, he hated thinking of that.
Adachi would always be the clumsy, childish man that Dojima had met just a few years before. The smiling, cheerful, boyish partner of his. Not the cold, calculating, and ruthless killer that the Inaba news made him out to be.
Dojima knew better than that, anyway.
He knew Adachi was just a kid. Just a confused, lonely kid. So maybe he had a few problems, but who didn’t?
Maybe Dojima’s problem was taking this too lightly…
His attention was diverted from that thought, however, as the door directly in front of him clicked open. An officer walked in to the room, nodding to Dojima before holding the door open for none other than Tohru Adachi.
Dojima felt his heart pound against his chest as his assistant shuffled in, eyes on the floor. He watched intently as the officer pulled out the chair for Adachi, who sat almost gingerly.
"I’ll be back in twenty minutes to pick him up, sir," the officer said, his booming voice reverberating off of the walls, before nodding once more to Dojima, then exiting.
Finally… they were alone.
It was silent except for the clinging rattle of Adachi’s hand and ankle cuffs as he got situated on the seat. Dojima noticed that he was still standing, and carefully, almost silently, he moved the chair out and sat.
Neither of them spoke, however. Adachi’s eyes never raised. Dojima’s voice wouldn’t work.
The only sound was an old, monotonous clock ticking down their time together. Making the time fly. Dojima inwardly cursed and figured that he’d just have to take the first move.
He cleared his throat to make sure he could still speak, "So, uh, how are you?"
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.
"As fine as I can be, locked up in a place like this."
Adachi’s voice was like music to Dojima’s ears, if he wanted to be cliché. He hadn’t realized how much he missed that husky, but light and airy voice. Even when they brought the kid to the station, defeated and depressed, his voice maintained that trill that sent Dojima’s mind reeling.
"Well, you put yourself here." He couldn’t stop the bite of resentment his voice held. Of course he was angry at Adachi! Not only had his partner killed two women and raped one of them (while attempting rape on the other), but he had put Dojima’s only daughter in danger (and therefore put Dojima’s nephew into danger as well)! It was quite a track record for a 27 year old. Not to mention Adachi’s previous record.
Dojima briefly wondered why he thought this kid was so special. Adachi was a right nutcase who thought killing was fun. He had no respect for authority, unless he was getting something out of the deal. He was manipulative, ruthless, cold-hearted, and well, the list just went on and on.
"You don’t have to exactly remind me, Dojima-san," Adachi spoke carefully, as if thinking about his words.
Silence followed his sentence.
Mostly because Dojima just knew he was going to start crying (and then feel stupid because it was so silly to be crying), and mostly because, well, what do you say to that?
"Um. Did your nephew get my letter?"
"Yeah, Nanako gave it to him before he left. And as far as I know he we-" Dojima paused, and finally, Adachi’s eyes raised from the floor, questioning. "He, uh, did what you asked. He’s back at my sister’s now. Safe and sound. As are all of us."
Adachi’s eyes rolled back down to the floor as he nodded. "That’s great to hear. How’s Nanako?"
"Still in and out of the hospital and doctor’s office. They just want to make sure that she’ll be okay in the future. That the fo-that she has no underlying illness or anything." Dojima had to remember that they were most likely being recorded and anything he had to say about the Midnight Channel or the fog would put him under suspicion.
Everyone generally regarded Tohru Adachi’s spiels about the Midnight Channel and the goddess Izanami and "carrying out humans’ desires" as him being a little touched in the head. And while it wasn’t entirely false to think that, Dojima knew that all of that really existed. That Adachi wasn’t lying.
But if he openly talked about it, especially with Adachi, the police might assume that they were in cahoots.
"Then everything’s gone back to the way it was, huh?"
Dojima crossed his arms over his chest; a defensive body stance. "I wouldn’t say that. You had a huge impact on everyone, Adachi." He couldn’t stop the almost-smile that tugged on his lips.
It was true that Adachi had a negative impact on a lot of people in Inaba. But Dojima had the pleasure to watch his nephew blossom into a courageous young man who surrounded himself with people who genuinely cared for him. Not to mention the friends that he had over; the young son of the manager of Junes who playfully picked fights with the energetic female fan of kung-fu movies, the owner-to-be of the Amagi Inn, the punk Dojima had his eye on (just in case), the bishounen-type blonde with the cute language, not to mention the Japanese idol and Detective Prince. It was quite a diverse bunch, and all of them had been almost totally transformed by the actions of Adachi.
So, in a way, Adachi had helped those kids grow into the caring, strong, knowledgeable, true young adults they were today.
The murderer laughed, short and breathy, "I guess not all of it could’ve been negative. And, well, with me behind bars and the case closed, you have more time at home with Nanako-chan, right?"
"That’s one of the pluses," Dojima admitted, arms tightening around himself.
"I’m glad for that, too, Dojima-san. You needed to spend more time with her…"
There was that despondent look that Adachi seemed to have mastered. Eyes downcast, corners of his mouth turned to the floor. And Dojima knew that he was right. All the time he had been dedicating to Chisato’s murder should’ve been spent nurturing Nanako’s interests and forming that unbreakable bond that fathers have with their daughters.
The handcuffs clanked as Adachi scratched his nose. "Um."
Dojima’s ears pricked, ready to listen to whatever his partner had to say. Even after he knew that Adachi had done all of these horrible things, Dojima still respected him as the smart young man he knew him as.
Adachi took in a breath, and let it out, a small fwoosh that almost wasn’t-there. "I’m not sorry about what I did."
"…?!" He shouldn’t have been surprised. Psychopaths never change their ways. They don’t feel guilt or remorse.
Those cold grey eyes met Dojima’s for a mere moment before averting again, "I am sorry about putting you and your family through this. For placing Nanako and your nephew in danger. That wasn’t my intent."
"But you… you were going to kill everyone. How can you say that wasn’t your intent?"
"It’s true I was-"
The door clicked open. The policeman who had escorted Adachi into the room stood looming in the doorway. "Time to go, Adachi."
He spat the name as if it left a bitter taste on his lips.
Adachi obediently stood, and Dojima followed suit. "I’ll see you again. And we’ll continue this conversation, okay?"
"When you have time, right, Dojima-san?" Adachi’s voice was acrid and it made the older man flinch inwardly. The policeman grabbed the handcuffs’ chain, tugging Adachi along. He sighed as he resigned himself to the fact that he was going back to the horrible, monotonous life that was his life in prison.
Dojima surprised him by turning sharply on his heel, piercing eyes locked with Adachi’s.
"I’ll make time."
fin