A/N: The whole drunk!Naoto thing is pretty popular, but I kind of imagine her being a bit more mellow than she's portrayed drunk. Written because I think this pairing needs more love. Hopefully they aren't OOC.

Acceptable

The drink in Naoto's glass is alarmingly colorful. She doesn't recall agreeing to drink, but then she doesn't really seem to recall much of anything right now. Possibly drunk already, she deduces from the emptiness in her head. Possibly.

She doesn't recall agreeing to go out with the girls either, but apparently she has, because Rise is clearly inebriated, dancing atop the table, much to the enjoyment of the bar's male patrons. Yukiko is giggling helplessly and leaning against Chie, who appears to be the only sober person on the premises.

Naoto sighs and reaches up to tug at the brim of her cap. A cap that is disconcertingly absent. She's a little perturbed to find it missing, but figures it can't be far, and lays her head against her folded arms on the table. She isn't sure how long she is like that, only that when she comes out of her reverie (she refuses to call it a stupor because she likes the idea that she is still sober, knows where her hat is, and can leave with no trouble at all) Rise has begun to slide out of her shirt, Yukiko is slumped over in her laughter and Chie is in an absolute panic, trying to get the young idol to come down.

Naoto thinks this is a good time to leave, but maybe- maybe she should finish her drink first. This seems like an acceptable line of thinking, and so she downs it in several gulps, the burning at the back of her throat almost painful. Painful... Naoto knows pain. This pain is acceptable.

Kanji paces restlessly. "Senpai, don'tcha think maybe we should check on 'em?" He thinks they should. He thinks they should go now, right now, because he thinks that Naoto isn't taking the loss of her grandfather nearly as well as she'd like them to believe and he thinks taking Naoto drinking to cheer her up was a dumb- possibly dangerous- idea in the first place.

Yu is preoccupied with Teddie and Nanako's pestering. He looks over Nanako's bobbing brown head to smile apologetically at Kanji. Kanji knows that look. You're on your own this time, sorry. Well, Kanji has no problems with being on his own, but he really feels like Naoto needs everyone right now. Or maybe needs no one, because she will surely object to his refusal to leave her alone.

He looks to Yosuke, who has long since fallen asleep, exhausted from Teddie's antics. Some help he would be. Kanji supposes it's for the best that Yosuke is asleep. They make an awkward team, really.

Yu nods at him to go ahead without them, and Kanji shrugs. There wasn't really much of another choice. So he leaves the Dojima reference, intent on taking Naoto home.

Naoto isn't surprised that, when Rise and Yukiko's drunken antics reach a height and Chie is about to absolutely break, Kanji materializes at her side, her missing hat in hand. Kanji seems to be good at such things: showing up when he is least expected and most needed.

"I s'pose you've come to take me home, correct?" Naoto winces at the slur in her voice. She sounds uncultured, ignorant, and absolutely... what is the word?

"You're plastered," Kanji informs her.

Yes, she supposes she's had a bit too much to drink. Perhaps it was selfish of her to simply assume that Kanji had come solely for her, she thought. He could have come for Rise or perhaps because Yukiko's mother had expressed concern. He was close to them as well. That was what friends did, was it not? She has hastily reached a conclusion without proof, and worse has blurted out said conclusion. She supposes that means it is truly time to call it a night, because she thinks she has begun to sound less like a detective and more like a drunk little girl.

"Let's go," Kanji says. Naoto thinks he sounds derisive, but she decides- again without evidence- that such a thing is unlike Kanji. He presses her hat onto her head and stalks through the crowd of Rise's admirers, parting the hordes with a glare. Naoto follows in his wake.

Naoto doesn't seem to notice that he's stopped a few paces in front of her, because she runs into his back. Kanji turns around to look at her. She is flushed and sways so slightly on her feet that perhaps it wouldn't be noticeable if he weren't so used to watching her. Always watching her.

"Hell were you thinkin', gettin' this drunk?" He asks before he can stop himself. He can't help but notice the irony of a delinquent scolding the Detective Prince, but he supposes Naoto must be too intoxicated to appreciate it.

"Thinking?" Naoto intones quietly, the slur in her voice so subtle as to be almost imperceptible. "S'pose I was thinking that this world is cruel."

Kanji waits for her to elaborate. She does after a long moment. "Grampa died of poor health and old age. I can't... cannot punish poor health and old age. I can't arrest them and en... ensure that they never take someone else from me."

Kanji drops a heavy hand on her head, the brim of her hat dropping over her eyes. "No," he agrees. "Ya can't. So ya gotta learn to cope." Naoto begins to tremble and Kanji wants to hold her, but he isn't courageous enough, not yet. "Ya ain't the only one to ever lose someone, Naoto. Ya ain't alone."

And he hopes she's really hearing his words, because some part of him can't bear the thought of her trying to deal with her pain all alone. Because he loves her in a way that, frankly, frightens him in its sheer extent and depth and ability to defy logic. He hopes to tell her one day, whether she accepts him or not. But that is a far off day, and today Naoto needs him, even if she can't- or won't- say as much.

"C'mon, let's get ya home."

And if he is surprised when Naoto takes his hand as they begin the long walk, his hand that dwarfs hers several times over, he doesn't show it.

Naoto cannot remember exactly how she got home last night, or why her head should be throbbing as violently as if Teddie were prancing inside it. But she suspects it has to do with one Kanji Tatsumi, perhaps because of the persistent thought that he is rather charming when he blushes straight to the tips of his ears.

She supposes that this is an acceptable conclusion and promptly drifts back to sleep.