Tell Me Please
May. 14th, 2023 01:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Persona 2/Persona 4 crossover (Broken Hero)
Chapter Summary: Even for a loner like Tatsuya, this isn't like him.
Word Count: 1039
Rating: Teen
Warnings: mostly Tatsuya's depression, thus the angst tag
Tatsuya does not actually appear in this one. That's kind of the point, actually.
Amagi-chan wakes him up as she opens the door to the room, yelling out a hasty apology as she does so, and then stops still in the doorway as she does so. “Oh. Kashihara-san. Well, thank goodness you’re all right, but in that case—”
“…Where is Tatsuya?” Jun finishes for her, frowning.
“Did he tell you where he was going?” Interestingly, Jun notices something new. True, her crush was obvious, the kind of thing that would make Tatsuya nervous and unlikely to confide in her, but she wasn’t panicking, still in control despite her obvious worry.
“One of the maids said they saw him leaving early this morning, but he didn’t say anything to me, no. Would he leave a note? I didn’t want to snoop around in his room.” And she has some boundaries, which he would also appreciate.
“I can look,” Jun assures her and stands, pausing only to put on the slippers provided by the inn. She follows, anxious, and a quick, efficient look only gives Jun more concern about his old friend, but nothing new.
It’s mostly just clothes. His phone is missing, but his lighter is still here, which is odd and a little concerning, since still he took that everywhere.
He’d gotten a sense of this before, the few times Tatsuya had stayed with him, but even for a police officer who traveled around the country often he didn’t have a lot of personal effects. He’d occasionally pick up the books in Jun’s house to read, but never brought one himself.
It could be that he’s looking into this far too much, but it feels like Tatsuya just…doesn’t do anything for fun. And Eikichi had made fun of Katsuya for being all work all the time.
Part of it, probably—Tatsuya doesn’t seem like the type. He doesn’t talk about work all that much, even when he does talk, which is rare. Katsuya, on the other hand, relates almost everything back to his own work. People might think that Katsuya is better at communicating, but when it comes to what he really thinks and wants he’s just as bad as Tatsuya, so Jun privately doesn’t think that counts.
And, oh hell, if he doesn’t resolve this quickly he’s going to have to tell Katsuya that despite the trust placed in him he’d let Tatsuya vanish off the face of the earth.
He settles back, balanced on the balls of his feet, thinking.
“Nothing, Kashihara-san?” Amagi-chan calls quietly from the doorway, and he shakes his head.
“Sadly, no, and that’s not like him.” Not unless Tatsu-chan had changed drastically since he last saw his old friend, but instinct says the younger Suou hasn’t, not in this at least. At minimum he wouldn’t want Jun to get worried, but he’d probably at least comply with the letter, if not fully, with the order to take along backup. The nature of wanting to take care of everything himself unfortunately lines up with Jun not having been woken up at the departure, but he’d at least leave a note behind, assuring Jun of his safety and competence and perhaps allowing them a location to follow should something go awry—
“What’s this?” His hand falls on a notepad absently, almost entirely obscured under the luggage like it had fallen. It’s almost identical to one that Katsuya had forced into Jun’s hands, not that he was complaining—though he suspects he’s not using it for its intended purpose, sketching flower arrangements and writing down his own observations about the stars. He flips through, finding largely only businesslike notes about the cases with minimal labeling or effort to allow an outsider to read the results with some odd shorthand Jun can’t decipher. He peers, puzzled but slightly comforted at the familiar scrawl and the fact that he can still read it, despite the years that have passed. Until he gets to the very end, at which point the jagged edges suggest more than a few pages have been torn out.
And it’s not as if it could have fallen out of the inner pocket of the luggage, not in such a way, thoroughly pinned and barely peeking out from underneath, which means this was deliberately concealed. A pit forms in Jun’s stomach.
“Did the maids see anyone else go into Tatsu-chan’s room after he left?” he demands, slightly louder and more frantic than he intends, and Amagi-chan’s eyes widen as she gasps.
“I’m afraid no one was paying too much attention to the movements of guests; as a traditional inn security is not our focus,” she answers softly, but that delicate façade conceals steel. Jun spots it easily for a very good reason: it reminds him of himself.
He tries the traditional technique of lightly running a pen over the surface, but to no avail; any impressions left behind are not enough to form words.
“Ask your friends. I’ll try to look for him myself while you’re in school,” he tells her kindly, and she looks at him knowingly.
“Including in the TV World?” Amagi-chan asks directly, and he smiles a little, allowing his own steel to show.
“I will check elsewhere first, and will take Teddie with me if I do, but can make no promises.” He will absolutely throw himself in harm’s way if Tatsu-chan needs him. It’s clear she knows that as well.
“We’ll try to be discreet,” Amagi-chan promises and leaves him crouching in a room too empty and cold for his liking. He allows himself a moment to reflect on the pain and fear of loss once more before he ruthlessly shuts that down and pads back to his room. He’ll need to get dressed before he has an early start to his morning. Perhaps he can start at Junes, grab an onigiri and a coffee as he checks around. Too bad Tatsu-chan didn’t take his motorcycle. It would certainly make it easier to track him down.
Persona 2/Persona 4 crossover (Broken Hero)
Chapter Summary: Even for a loner like Tatsuya, this isn't like him.
Word Count: 1039
Rating: Teen
Warnings: mostly Tatsuya's depression, thus the angst tag
Tatsuya does not actually appear in this one. That's kind of the point, actually.
The first sign that something is wrong—more than usual, of course—is when it becomes clear that Tatsuya never returned to the inn last night. Jun had waited in his room—fallen asleep waiting, as a matter of fact—to discuss some of the potential suspects.
Amagi-chan wakes him up as she opens the door to the room, yelling out a hasty apology as she does so, and then stops still in the doorway as she does so. “Oh. Kashihara-san. Well, thank goodness you’re all right, but in that case—”
“…Where is Tatsuya?” Jun finishes for her, frowning.
“Did he tell you where he was going?” Interestingly, Jun notices something new. True, her crush was obvious, the kind of thing that would make Tatsuya nervous and unlikely to confide in her, but she wasn’t panicking, still in control despite her obvious worry.
“One of the maids said they saw him leaving early this morning, but he didn’t say anything to me, no. Would he leave a note? I didn’t want to snoop around in his room.” And she has some boundaries, which he would also appreciate.
“I can look,” Jun assures her and stands, pausing only to put on the slippers provided by the inn. She follows, anxious, and a quick, efficient look only gives Jun more concern about his old friend, but nothing new.
It’s mostly just clothes. His phone is missing, but his lighter is still here, which is odd and a little concerning, since still he took that everywhere.
He’d gotten a sense of this before, the few times Tatsuya had stayed with him, but even for a police officer who traveled around the country often he didn’t have a lot of personal effects. He’d occasionally pick up the books in Jun’s house to read, but never brought one himself.
It could be that he’s looking into this far too much, but it feels like Tatsuya just…doesn’t do anything for fun. And Eikichi had made fun of Katsuya for being all work all the time.
Part of it, probably—Tatsuya doesn’t seem like the type. He doesn’t talk about work all that much, even when he does talk, which is rare. Katsuya, on the other hand, relates almost everything back to his own work. People might think that Katsuya is better at communicating, but when it comes to what he really thinks and wants he’s just as bad as Tatsuya, so Jun privately doesn’t think that counts.
And, oh hell, if he doesn’t resolve this quickly he’s going to have to tell Katsuya that despite the trust placed in him he’d let Tatsuya vanish off the face of the earth.
He settles back, balanced on the balls of his feet, thinking.
“Nothing, Kashihara-san?” Amagi-chan calls quietly from the doorway, and he shakes his head.
“Sadly, no, and that’s not like him.” Not unless Tatsu-chan had changed drastically since he last saw his old friend, but instinct says the younger Suou hasn’t, not in this at least. At minimum he wouldn’t want Jun to get worried, but he’d probably at least comply with the letter, if not fully, with the order to take along backup. The nature of wanting to take care of everything himself unfortunately lines up with Jun not having been woken up at the departure, but he’d at least leave a note behind, assuring Jun of his safety and competence and perhaps allowing them a location to follow should something go awry—
“What’s this?” His hand falls on a notepad absently, almost entirely obscured under the luggage like it had fallen. It’s almost identical to one that Katsuya had forced into Jun’s hands, not that he was complaining—though he suspects he’s not using it for its intended purpose, sketching flower arrangements and writing down his own observations about the stars. He flips through, finding largely only businesslike notes about the cases with minimal labeling or effort to allow an outsider to read the results with some odd shorthand Jun can’t decipher. He peers, puzzled but slightly comforted at the familiar scrawl and the fact that he can still read it, despite the years that have passed. Until he gets to the very end, at which point the jagged edges suggest more than a few pages have been torn out.
And it’s not as if it could have fallen out of the inner pocket of the luggage, not in such a way, thoroughly pinned and barely peeking out from underneath, which means this was deliberately concealed. A pit forms in Jun’s stomach.
“Did the maids see anyone else go into Tatsu-chan’s room after he left?” he demands, slightly louder and more frantic than he intends, and Amagi-chan’s eyes widen as she gasps.
“I’m afraid no one was paying too much attention to the movements of guests; as a traditional inn security is not our focus,” she answers softly, but that delicate façade conceals steel. Jun spots it easily for a very good reason: it reminds him of himself.
He tries the traditional technique of lightly running a pen over the surface, but to no avail; any impressions left behind are not enough to form words.
“Ask your friends. I’ll try to look for him myself while you’re in school,” he tells her kindly, and she looks at him knowingly.
“Including in the TV World?” Amagi-chan asks directly, and he smiles a little, allowing his own steel to show.
“I will check elsewhere first, and will take Teddie with me if I do, but can make no promises.” He will absolutely throw himself in harm’s way if Tatsu-chan needs him. It’s clear she knows that as well.
“We’ll try to be discreet,” Amagi-chan promises and leaves him crouching in a room too empty and cold for his liking. He allows himself a moment to reflect on the pain and fear of loss once more before he ruthlessly shuts that down and pads back to his room. He’ll need to get dressed before he has an early start to his morning. Perhaps he can start at Junes, grab an onigiri and a coffee as he checks around. Too bad Tatsu-chan didn’t take his motorcycle. It would certainly make it easier to track him down.
