Needle felting was different from sewing, but it involved the creation of cute animals, something she believed was Tatsumi’s area of expertise. She purchased a starter pack, which included the tools needed for the job—and worked as replacements if he already had those—and two bags that contained the wool that would turn into corgis wearing strawberry hats. For good measure, she added another pack that would turn into four cats.
Satisfied, she hurriedly and carefully wrapped the present, then waited for the part because the team insisted a shared party was a merry one.
On Christmas and exactly ten minutes ahead of schedule, she entered the Dojima—it was always here, come to think of it—household and set her bag down on the table. Once everyone had arrived and they were given the okay to share, she immediately sought Tatsumi and gestured for him to meet her in a quieter corner.
“This is for you,” she said, a statement most obvious with the To-From sticker on the front. “Perhaps it can provide inspiration for your next project.”
Was acceptance always this overwhelming? -- a lifelong craving for sure, a crowd amid strung-up lights and big, gaudy tree that somehow warmed cold hands faster than a space heater. Somehow, Kanji didn't consider the loudness of everything, the elbow-to-elbow closeness that, while speaking volumes of how much he's accomplished, was a lot. It did spark a certain kind of joy, though, seeing Nanako's eyes nearly brighter than the red-green-white lights decorating the foyer, eyeing the mass of presents towering in Kanji's arms--sure, everyone had something, but one thing was certain this holiday season: Nanako was getting spoiled.
Kanji didn't have nerves surrounding most of his gifts. All catered toward homemade sentimentality, parts of each member that Kanji'd picked up on or they mentioned at some point or another. Chie missing an old, raggedy beanie she used to sport, Yukiko desiring a scarf of a specific shade of red, Yosuke's... okay, Yosuke's played more into humor, ear muffs fashioned as a pair of bulky headphones, but it was still something he'd wear. Probably. He better, given how much structure those things needed. Yu's was sent off months ahead of time, 'case his holiday was spent elsewhere.
Naoto's... well, he had offered hers ahead of the week's rush. It wasn't - it was - special, Kanji hoped, and if he dared to hope, he ventured a little further: she liked it, even. He'd never know, but that's fine. Didn't have to. They did, but didn't do, emotions, and it was especially murky whenever one emotion was directed toward the other. You'd have to study Naoto well to gauge her emotions, to note the peculiar way she raises a brow either in questioning or surprise -- the surprise normally being positive, especially if adjoined with a blink. Maybe the light was playing tricks; maybe he didn't get much sleep, but... he thought he'd saw that look.
Such is how Kanji regards his own gift. Gift, who would've thought? He wasn't the type, wasn't the guy people sought out to meet, nevermind give things to.
"Inspire? Hell, I think you just paid for a handful of projects for me. I might work for the town's textile ... industry, I guess, but that don't mean my Ma' gives me a discount."
Kanji's probably costed them more money than earned it, his hobby expanding more than just a fleeting month of interest, but.
"Think I'm inspired to base," he taps at the package's front, particularly at the dark, shadowy kitten perched in the middle. "This one off'a you."
The resemblance is uncanny, he thinks, but keeps it to himself. He's already testing her limits.
... Mainly because they're both cute. Naoto, kittens. Whisking that thought away before his cheeks get any hotter, Kanji keeps his focus on the How To portion of the product's text, knowing he doesn't need it, but also really needing it via means of distraction.
"... Thanks, Naoto. Mean it."
