Persona Music Drabbles Collection

A/N: Yeah, yeah. I haven't been here for awhile, but I'm going back for a bit. I'm redoing Class of the Midnight Channel, so I might as well get a few ideas outta my head.

Teenagers – MCR

Ryotaro Dojima was a very calm, patient man...well, usually. Being a middle-aged widower and father of a young girl, he never expected anything like this to happen. Standing in the doorway, dripping cold acidic rain water onto his newly cleaned floor, was his nephew Souji and the Hanamura boy. Each of their soaked uniforms clung to their skin like a scared child does to their parents legs on the very first day of school. Yosuke's headphones, Dojima noticed, were missing; only the frayed end of a cord dangled onto his chest.

He cleared his throat. "Souji…Yosuke…mind telling me why you're about two hours late and soaked to the bone? The food got cold while Nanako and I waited."

The boys' heads seemed to sink lower at his menacing gaze. Quickly glancing at each other, Yosuke decided to take the high road and speak up.

"Uh, …I wanted to talk to Souji about something near the riverbed…and after I talked to him, we decided to get some fish to make for dinner. We got a huge bite on the rod, Souji and I trying to reel it in, but the damn thing was just wild; it pulled both of us into the water. The water weighed us down a lot, so we couldn't run home in time for dinner. Er, yeah…and that's what happened."

Dojima was experiencing mixed emotions. Angry at both of them, yet strangely apathetic. He'd never had to deal with an older child, who swore and disobeyed; he was used to sweet and innocent Nanako, who was peering over at the two boys from behind Dojima's legs. Pressing a hand to the top of the young girl's head, he addressed the two once more.

Passing his gaze over to his nephew, he said, "Souji…next time, please just call me and explain, instead of coming here late and dripping wet."

Souji's eyes seemed to flick up and down, as if considering his reply options. Finally, he sealed the deal with a nod.

Dojima moved aside to let him in to dry off, Nanako running off to get a couple towels. Turning to the warm, familiar couch he grabbed the remote and turned the TV to the news. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a partially crushed pack of cigarettes. Opening it, he found no smokes, but a single note, folded up and printed neatly in…Nanako's handwriting?

He opened it up. 'Hi Dad!', it read.'I bet you're wondering where all the stick thingies are(1)! Well, too bad, I buried them all in the front yard. Maybe this'll teach you a lesson to always check your pockets before you put your pants in the laundry! – Nanako D.'

A groan escaped his mouth as he leaned his head back onto the couch.'s not just teenagers anymore.


A/N: Hm…I think I did pretty well. (1) I don't think Nanako would be old enough to recognize what a cigarette is. Oh well, blame the head-canon. Anyway, review if you please.