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Post by Fusae Umezono on Mar 29, 2009 1:23:02 GMT -5
((Tag Dojima, and some Souji cameos~))
There was one thing that Fusae couldn't deny was awesome about living in such a small town -- and that was getting discounts on the good stuff at the local liquor store because you just so happened to be a good neighbor. And considering all the visitors she'd had recently, and before that the whole jumping into TVs to save highschoolers from themselves... Well, she needed a good drink every once in a while. More often than that, actually. No better time than tonight, either. Because goddamn she just wanted a long soak in the tub and maybe a mixed drink; nothing fancy, but better than a bottled beer.
And if there was one thing that Fusae was glad for, it was that the Konishi liquor store was quiet. Not silent, because of the occasional rustle of the owner's paper as he sat behind the register and the faint radio playing old enka songs, but quiet enough to be almost soothing despite the jaunty jingle the door gave as some other latecomer entered. Even after a few months in Inaba, Fusae had yet become used to the fact that people and traffic didn't blare out in the middle of the night -- just the wildlife and neighbor's dogs. It gave her some to enjoy the peace when she could, like right now: scrutinizing the back shelf of the store, her eyes tiredly roaming over the bottles of fruit liqueurs.
Every little bit of common sense in her head told her that no drink was going to help her at this point. Even Kuraokami seemed to give her what amounted to an awkward pause, mentally. Oh well. Not like she listened to said common sense, anyways.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Mar 29, 2009 3:01:19 GMT -5
"Ou Konishi. How's business?" he managed as he stepped in, greeting the man behind the counter lightly as he usually did. Things had been tough on the liquor store and the owner's family (for obvious reasons-- the still-unresolved serial murder that had taken the life of Saki Konishi, the man's daughter, must still weigh heavily on their minds), but that didn't mean they didn't supply some of the best booze here.
It was anytime better than that Junes-branded crap, anyway.
At least it wasn't noisy like the bars those young adults go to (and there are none around this area, anyway), and he appreciated the calm despite how he just wanted a swig before he headed home. Nothing big, so that Ryotaro Doujima won't have to face a disappointed Nanako. After all, he had promised her that he will spend the weekends with her and Souji on their first weekend of the summer holidays, provided if there were no calls for him, of course.
"Get me the usual, can you?" he nodded to the man, who folded his papers to deftly grab a bottle of beer, opened it, and passed it over the counter. Smirking, the detective-off-duty took in a gulp almost immediately, feeling it warm his throat.
Nothing like a good drink after work... was what he wanted to say out loud, until he saw that he was not alone. Knowing better than to voice a greeting, he just shifted his gaze in another direction until he remembered that he had seen the woman next to her before. She was the murderer-turned-victim Kubo Mitsuo's co-worker at the steak stall. Doujima cleared his throat. "How's business, ah-" what was her name again? "-miss Umezono, was it?" he started easily, careful not to make it sound like some sort of interrogation.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Mar 29, 2009 10:12:14 GMT -5
"Eh, oh yeah-" Oh damn her habit of replying without looking who it was, first. Damn it to hell. To her credit, Fusae didn't even so much as let out a twitch at the sight of the detective. Or maybe that was plain tiredness. Whatever.
Dojima. Not like she could forget who he was, after all those questions back a month or so about Kubo, or the fact that he was Seta's guardian while the kid was in Inaba. He'd made sure he wouldn't be easily forgotten, either, thanks to his gruff persistence while interrogating her.
Oh god she didn't like police as a rule, even now when she had no reason to.
"Yeah, s'going good. Can't really complain." She should stay curt, really, no need to open up conversation with a detective after all. But she needed some way to let out her nervousness as she calmly grabbed a bottle of cherry liqueur. Nevermind body language; she bet he could smell fear, or at least discomfort.
"Didn't figure you th' type to be out in a store like this so late. Thought you were a family man, 'r whatever.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Mar 29, 2009 10:34:43 GMT -5
"Pf," he huffed with a wry smile, smelling the discomfort as obvious as the booze hanging in the air. At least he was still sober enough to think straight. Ryotaro stretched and leaned back, a hand holding the bottle while he observed idly the response. She was reaching for something strong... Nope, he wasn't going to get any of that today.
"It isn't late yet, geez. Just needed a little refreshment before heading home, y'know? After so many hours of overtime and no extra pay, family man or not, I'm earning this one," he muttered, waving the bottle slightly before taking a swig. It wasn't that late yet, right? He could still make it home early. Well, if not, then there was always Sunday.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Mar 29, 2009 11:56:33 GMT -5
Well, wasn't Dojima comfy? Moreso than her, but she wasn't about to let out so much as an out-of-place fidget in front of him, she had more than enough pride (more than was good for her, actually). She tapped the thick glass of the liqueur bottle with a nail as she glanced at the older man. He looked exhausted, to put it gently. Was he certain he hadn't gotten hit by a truck during said overtime? Because it would surprise her in the least.
"I s'ppose so... One can't hurt," she gave a little grin, one that was a bit forced by the looks of it. "You prob'ly have your hands full, from what I saw on the news. No rest for you cops, nowadays, eh? "
Not that she hadn't ever been part of the reason for that, whether it was back home in Osaka or even now with the TV world. Everyone was running on empty these days, except none of the kids got to drown their troubles with alcohol.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Mar 29, 2009 18:20:49 GMT -5
It wasn't helping that the cops have to work hard when solving cases like these-- they don't even get enough breaks. Packed lunches, instant noodles, coffee, coffee and more coffee; that's what he had been living on the past few days, and he wasn't entirely happy at the fact that he couldn't at least catch 40 winks at the comfort of his own home. Apparently the Shirogane kid had stirred trouble by disappearing (only to return today to make a big fuss at the station-- just why is the kid still lingering about?), but now that things had settled down, he just couldn't resist a drink.
The middle-aged man heaved a sigh as Umezono commented about the news. "The goddamn mass media tends to blow everything out like wildfire, so we're in for clearing doubts and rumours as well," he groaned, stretching his neck and shoulders. "Some unappreciative civilians still tend to think that we're getting paid for doing nothing! It's pretty amazing."
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Mar 29, 2009 19:59:17 GMT -5
"Oh, I've seen. Firsthand," she gave Dojima a wryly knowing little smirk. He knew perfectly well the media circus around Mitsuo, how the reporters had scrambled for every shred of information on him as possible.
Maybe Fusae didn't have the best impression of the police (they were either incapable or they were too good at their jobs for her and her friends' liking, and rarely a happy medium in between), but even she could understand the frustration of being unable to finish your job. How were you supposed to solve a string of kidnappings and murders if people were actually being shoved into a magical land inside the TV? Not like anyone would believe any of it, but it was probably impossible to solve anything as a detective if you were looking at the entirely wrong thing.
She shrugged, eying the other bottles on the shelf, as if debating if she was really in the mood for cherry tonight. "Hey, as long as you get paid... Not glamorous, but whose job is?" Certainly not hers.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Mar 30, 2009 7:23:31 GMT -5
It was just so irritating, his job-- but he couldn't help it, somehow, not with his instinctual sense of justice. Yet somehow, he kept running into dead ends despite having very strong leads every time; like how Mitsuo Kubo was gone before they could dig anything in detail out of him. Somehow, that reinforced Ryotaro's assumption that it may not be as simple as they had thought (what Adachi had thought, to be precise).
His head stooping lower over the counter while taking another swig, he stared at the contents within the dark glass with tired eyes. It was already down by half? Psh, were they shrinking the contents, or something?
"...Yeah. Don't want to lose a job in times of inflation," he muttered in response at last, setting the bottle on the counter.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 1, 2009 10:08:40 GMT -5
She couldn't argue with the silence that followed -- it was too expected to be awkward. So as Dojima took a healthy break with his beer, Fusae shrugged and went back to browsing through the shelves of liqueur. Until he started talking again, that was. She made a noncommittal grunt of agreement at his grumping about his job, a bit lost on an actual reply.
When her cellphone rang, the obnoxious shill beeping shattering the reasonable peace of the Konishi's store, she was almost grateful for the distraction. The younger woman shot Dojima an almost-apologetic smile as she fumbled for her phone. She didn't even bother looking at the caller ID before flipping it open and putting it to her ear, her fingers scrambling over the buttons a bit in her rush to have a reason to distance herself from the detective. Nothing against him persay but... well, he was a cop.
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Post by Souji Seta on Apr 2, 2009 9:03:48 GMT -5
Sometimes, Souji thought absently while sneaking past a small house towards a rather dilapidated garage, one just had to get away. And getting away for Souji meant sitting on Fusae's couch, drinking Fusae's illegal substances, and whining into Fusae's ear. He'd been desperate to get away that day -- school had been a chore. People asked him about the scars on his face (still!), lunch was spent listening to Chie and Yosuke argue heatedly about the merits or lack thereof of rubber cement (Chie firmly believed it was a valid adhesive while Yosuke held the position that it should be wiped from the earth if only because it smelled terrible), and Mrs. Sofue had gone on a rant about scarabs for the forth time that year. The only thing he took away from the lecture was that he needed a drink. Now.
Which is why upon finding her apartment locked, Souji decided to simply...jiggle it a little. It really couldn't be called breaking and entering if the lock was this bad, right? It was just entering.
Flopping down on the couch, Souji took stock of his surroundings, a rather devious smile taking over his face. He never did things like this, normally, and Fusae would probably flay him alive later but in the moment Souji decided to let himself enjoy his moment of intrusion. Besides, it was Fusae. Who knows what he would be able to find, he thought with a grin, plunking his hand down on the armrest of the couch.
Bra. Bra. Bra.
Souji jerked his hand away as if he'd been burned, yelping audibly. It was lacy and looked...highly impractical. Definitely the sort of bra you wore to be seen in. Why the hell had she left it out!? Granted, she probably hadn't been expecting someone to jimmy the lock, but still. Getting shakily to his feet, face still beat red despite being alone, Souji dashed over to the fridge in search of some liquid courage.
She was out. Brilliant.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cellphone with the intent to call her and tell her to stop whatever she was doing, pick up some beer, and 'let him in, because he clearly wasn't already inside the house if he was on his cell, oh no'. No cheery ding greeted him when he flipped it open, a small blinking battery greeting him instead. Once again, brilliant.
Oh well, Souji thought with a sigh as he moved over to her land line, putting the receiver to his cheek. Maybe she wouldn't recognize her own phone number? There was always hope.
"Fusae?" he asked, sounding like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, "It's Souji."
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 2, 2009 18:17:49 GMT -5
Seta. Well, that was totally not surprising. "What do you--" She barely caught herself from saying his name, her eyes instantly shooting over to Dojima as very idea of the utter irony of Souji's timing started to click in her head.
If he called this late at night, he was either looking for advice or a drink, sometimes both. Definitely meant he wasn't sticking around at home, and now there was his guardian not even twenty feet away from her... Fusae went to casually duck behind the shelf in the middle of the store, eager to put some sort of barrier between them as if Dojima could hear her phone from all the way over at the counter. pretending to look busy eyeing the prices of the alcohol in the freezers along the wall.
She sighed and held the phone a little closer to her ear, forcing herself to sound casual (and tone back the sarcasm a bit more than she wanted). Totally not talking to someone's highschooler nephew on her personal cell. Right. "Nice timing. What's up, man?"
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Apr 2, 2009 18:35:59 GMT -5
Groaning a reply to Umezono's smile to excuse herself, Ryotaro initially paid no heed to her-- after all, it was none of his business, and he wasn't on duty. The last thing he needed was to play detective with half a bottle of beer warming his stomach. Then the woman suddenly looked back at him, as if he was some sort of eavesdropper.
The middle-aged man looked back with a raised eyebrow.
When the woman was walking off to put some distance between them (normal reaction-- he did that numerous times, himself when he was on the phone), he lowered his eyes to the bottle of beer once more-- it was almost empty. That was good. No more excuse to linger about, right? The detective fished for his wallet, putting a thousand-yen bill on the counter. "Keep the change, would you?" he offered, much to old man Konishi's delight; and he couldn't surpress a smile, himself.
Ryotaro stretched and did repeated blinking exercises-- a check to see if he was really awake, despite knowing that he could handle just one bottle. A pat on the pockets showed that he still possessed his car keys, which was good. He casually took the bottle and emptied the contents slowly so that he could enjoy every bit that went down his throat.
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Post by Souji Seta on Apr 3, 2009 16:31:34 GMT -5
Souji twirled the cord around his finger absently as he furrowed his brow, puzzled over her tone. Usually, the moment she heard his voice marked the moment she let loose a caustic barrage of ego-penetrating jibes. Well, maybe not usually, but Souji certainly remembered those times with a lot more clarity than he did times like this.
Then again, maybe fate wanted to make the fact that Fu would most likely tear his head off when she found out where he was all the more ironic by having her be nice now. Who knew, with his luck?
"Uh, well, I was walking by your place and I decided to stop by. Door was...uh, open, so I kinda just let myself in. I hope that's okay." There was a pregnant pause. "Oh, and you're out of beer. You should probably go get some, huh?"
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 5, 2009 12:23:36 GMT -5
Oh she was going to kill him. So hard. And then string him up outside her door as a warning to any other teens in Inaba who thought it would be awesome to just bug her whenever they needed someone to whine to.
And if Dojima wasn't right there (innocently paying for his beer, and probably getting ready to head on his way) she would have told him that outright. Instead, she just took the phone away from her ear, staring at it incredulously before noticing the calling number as her own. When she finally replied back into the phone, her voice had the sort of dangerous edge to it that she usually only let out in the aftermath of a particularly annoying fight in the TV. "Great. Stop by. Any. Time. I mean, I know it's not like you meant to just crash over at my place without any warning, huh?"
When the day came you could physically punch someone through the phone, that was the day she was banned from electronics as a whole.
Still, she found herself balancing her phone hands-free against her shoulder while opening the freezer door and going to grab a case from the shelf, anyways. And if she happened to accidentally hit a button or two while fumbling with the case while Seta sputtered on a little longer, well, she didn't notice at first.
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Post by Souji Seta on Apr 5, 2009 15:11:17 GMT -5
Souji winced at each sourly punctuated word, grip on the phone cord tightening while he tried to find something else to focus on something, anything, in the apartment other than the roughness of his friend's (were they friends?) voice. Bra (god, no), a collection of shovel-esque weapons -- some still with blood on the handle (augh, what the hell), more underwear...
Fu needed a housekeeper. He would do it himself but, well...
She'd stopped talking by now, and Souji took his chance to defend himself. If he'd been paying more attention (and not so distracted by the ladies undergarment store that had apparently exploded all over Fu's apartment), he might have noticed the sudden increase of background noise coming through the receiver. But he wasn't, so he didn't.
"Don't get upset, I figured you'd be alright with it!" A pause. "As long as I'm here, why not just...you know, get drunk with me. I really need it, Fu, please?"
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Apr 5, 2009 21:27:32 GMT -5
He was about to leave, alright. But suddenly, something stopped him in his tracks.
Well, normally, on-call loudspeakers didn't faze him, but the voice that came through Umezono's phone totally did. He almost smashed the bottle against the counter, but his sane mind prevented him from doing so. Ryotaro settled for a deathglare at Umezono's way, not caring if she saw it or not as he digged in more of the conversation. The voice was distinctively Souji, alright. SOUJI'S DRINKING?! With a woman that was not of his age group? Something DEFINITELY went wrong there. The detective began forming a cause-and-effect diagram at the back of his mind, while he was still glued to his seat.
Maybe he was drunk, and heard the voice wrong. Maybe. Perhaps. So he just sat there, eyes shooting daggers through Umezono's skull-- and hopefully through the cellphone she was holding on to, as well.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 7, 2009 22:36:43 GMT -5
After years of pissing off... well, everyone back in Osaka, Fusae had long ago developed a sort of sixth sense when it came to people angrily staring holes into the back of her head. Actually, you'd have to be stupid as fuck to not recognize the waves of parental righteousness that were practically rolling off of Dojima. But really why would he---
The speakerphone notification light cheerily blinked against her cheek.
Oh. Oh shit. Shit shit fuck damn. She was so fucking dead. If she was the one who had found out some deadbeat was fucking around with her charge the only thing that would have kept her from all-out lunging at the person would be the rolling security cameras, and even then for only so long. But... Dojima wasn't her, thank god.
She fought the urge to give a visible flinch of pre-emptive pain, trying to calm her racing mind. People's voices got fucked up over the phone all the time, she just had use that to put a little seed of doubt in Dojima's head; thank god Souji had used her landline, because if his cell number was still in her phone's call history (it had been bumped out a while ago by repeated calls from "Himeko-chan") there was no way she'd stand a chance of even convincing herself she could lie her way out of this. And lying was one of the things she did best, after all.
The younger woman seemingly fumbled the case of beer, her phone clattering to the linoleum floor as she did so, and she muttered a curse before bending down to retrieve it, hitting the speakerphone button off as she did so. Re-nestling it by her ear, she propped the case of beer on her hip, and continued on with her conversation.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, Haneda," she flicked her eyes away from the shelves of beer (hopefully it wasn't a brand that Dojima was familiar enough with to think anything of the name she'd pulled for her ploy) and braved the deathmarch to the cash register. "But you bet yer ass you owe me, after this. I'll catch you later."
The phone was flipped shut unceremoniously, and slipped back in her pocket as she set the case and bottle of liqueur on the counter, seemingly ignorant and guilt-free of the looks Dojima was shooting her. Didn't help that inside she was panicking, but she was always good at pretending she had done nothing wrong. It was a hard habit to break after all those years.
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Post by Souji Seta on Apr 11, 2009 15:41:04 GMT -5
"Haneda? What are you talking about, Fusa-" There was a sharp click, then a dial tone.
To say that Souji was perplexed was an understatement.
Thou hast ired the young woman, methinks.
I know that, Izanagi.
And thou dost not feel apologetic? Tut tut.
"I never said I wasn't-" Souji found himself speaking allowed and promptly flushed, sinking back down onto the couch to await his doom.
Thou will be blood-boltered before the day is out, young o-
Shut up.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Apr 11, 2009 19:56:59 GMT -5
Buuut he was observing, alright. He looked at how Umezono calmly went about her business which made him slightly perplexed. Most people would have felt uncomfortable under his stare-- which made him even more suspicious. Beer finished and bottle left on the counter, he walked to the woman in the most civilized manner he could muster. "Excuse my... intrusion... miss Umezono. But I would like to know who you were speaking to over the phone."
At the back of his mind, Ryotaro was thinking of another series of questions for Souji. He was going to get it this time. No, Haneda was going to get it. No one names his nephew after a beer of an airport.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 15, 2009 11:33:56 GMT -5
"Eh?" Just keep that look of surprise on long enough to make it seem genuine. She'd lied to cops before, and this one wasn't even on-duty. That didn't mean anything, though, when it came to Dojima -- damn that parental sense of responsibility. Her parents had pretty much given up when she was Seta's age, so maybe her idea of "parenting" was a little skewed, but still...
"Oh," She raised an eyebrow and managed an incredulous hint of a smile, the slightly miffed expression at his questioning enough to let him know that the only reason he was excused was because they were in public, and Konishi was intently listening from around his newspaper. Haneda wasn't even that weird of a family name, either, so it couldn't have been that; Dojima was just anal when it came to anything concerning Seta. He just wouldn't let this go, she knew it. "Old friend of mine from outta town stopping by for Sunday, s'all. He wasn't supposed to show up until tomorrow morning, but, eh, what'cha gonna do right?" Fusae gave a casual little shrug as if asking for him to agree as she pulled her wallet out of her back pocket, flipping through loose bills to grab enough to pay for the case of beer and bottle of liqueur.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on Apr 16, 2009 21:02:16 GMT -5
... Or it could just be himself being paranoid. Gods, he had to pay more attention to his nephew sometime. Still, drunk or not, he fished for his cellphone and dropped a call home; his eyes all the while on the woman who returned to her own business. He didn't answer her-- or, heck, he didn't know how to answer her-- not without knowing any facts.
... And just as he expected, Souji wasn't home. On another hand, he had to keep reassuring his daughter that everything was alright over the phone, and that he had something to attend to before he returned. Calling Souji's phone went straight to his voice mail, too. He could very well be blaming Umezono for no reason at all, save for his drunkeness. ... It wasn't like just a bottle of beer could get him drunk.
His own eyes still betraying his suspiciousness, he gruffly apologized to the woman. "Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me... 'Cause the man you were talking to sounded like my nephew," he said, with great emphasis on the word 'nephew'. Whichever the outcome, he was definitely going to dig further into this.
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Post by Fusae Umezono on Apr 23, 2009 0:14:52 GMT -5
As soon as she got home, she was going to give Seta a bitching out. And then probably help him weasel his way out from Dojima's thumb for the night without making the detective any more suspicious than he already was. Thank god for the benefit of the doubt, because it was totally working in her favor now; just keep up with the act and Dojima might just go home with nothing more than an uneasy feeling of possibly being gypped, which meant she'd have to avoid him for a while. Still, it'd be nothing compared to what Seta would get if she was caught now.
Well, Dojima was Seta's uncle. If the kid wanted to run off and not be smart enough to cover his own tracks from his uncle, he deserved a bitching, right? It would probably happen sometime before the year was out, Fusae figured as she waited for Konishi to give her back her change. The older man was taking his sweet time, probably hoping for some gossip to entertain himself with while he rang up her stuff.
"Huh, go figure. Haneda's always been a bit of a babyface..." Hopefully Dojima wouldn't catch all of the casual lie. She shrugged and shifted her weight to the other leg, relaxing as best she could (which meant not really at all) under Dojima's stare. "Weird coincidence, though."
Nevermind that, though. Couldn't Konishi count out cash faster than that? She knew he could, just not tonight or right now, apparently.
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Post by Ryotaro Doujima on May 2, 2009 0:00:26 GMT -5
Hmph. Maybe it was just his head playing tricks with him, after all. Scratching his head as he stood there, wondering what to ask next. ...Well goddamnit he wasn't even on duty. Umezono looked and acted natural enough-- so he might as well cross it out of his mind.
...For now. At least this served him as an early warning to really find out where Souji hangs out with; that incident had given him so many nightmares that he could never admit to anyone-- not even himself-- remained vivid in his mind even as he contemplated. "...Well, it's just me taking things too seriously, I guess," Ryotaro managed with a shrug, before turning and walking out of the store for a light smoke, then (hopefully) home next. Only a blind person wouldn't realize that he was slumping more than when he came into the shop.
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