circle7 | I guess that makes this AUjima 02.

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I guess that makes this AUjima 02.

[It's been weeks since he sent that letter off. Technically, nothing has really changed. Every day, he still wakes up to the same ceiling and is shuffled off on the same schedule, every hour, every week passes into a blur. It is all the same. Still, something slight has shifted in that time - a sense of relief somewhere in the back of his head, like a sigh and a 'Oh, made it through that one.' The only thing is, Adachi has no idea what 'that one' is. He doesn't even know why he thinks it.

The monotony is only broken by one of two things. When it gets too much - all that disappointment and suffocating mundaneness (and maybe, just maybe, a pin prick's amount of guilt), Adachi thinks about rooftops and television antennae, and maybe just ending it somehow. But no, it always comes back to the same thing - he failed at that too, and he can hardly bring himself to try something now. Figures, he always thinks, I can't even end things properly without someone telling me it's not allowed. His life consists of You Are Allowed's and You Are Not Allowed's these days. It feels like kindergarten and the tightening of a noose.

The second thing is more surprising. Every once in a while, he gets a request for a meeting. He always accepts them, because otherwise, it'd drive him mad. Usually, it's people he doesn't know - the faces of the lives he's ignorantly hurt. That makes today an oddity. Adachi sits down, rubbing his wrists as the guard uncuffs him, and tilts his head at the man across the interrogation table.]

To what do I owe the pleasure, Dojima-san? I thought the investigation'd be over by now, or do you guys really work that slow even without me trying to get in your way?

[ooc; AU!Dojima who joined the Investigation Team, take 2!]

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I'm not looking for what I want to hear.

[Pulling the lighter from his pocket, he circles to the side of the table, flicking the flame on and holding it out. (Rules say he can't give him anything potentially dangerous.) At this proximity, the differences between Adachi-the-Partner and Adachi-the-Ex-Partner become even more obvious. That bruise from last time is gone, but his face is thinner, and black lines the bottom of his eyes. Even at rest his expression differs greatly, but Dojima's not sure how to describe it.]

And it's detective.

[It's exhaustion, and defeatism, and it's dropping a mask and pretending to be nothing but himself. Hey, he can't help it if the real thing's uglier, you know, twisted and black and being acutely aware of it, entirely unapologetic for it. Adachi leans his face towards the flame, lighting the end of the cigarette as he draws in a breath, and consequently, leans back when it lights with a short-lived fire red, burning out a second later. It gets its fifteen seconds, even less than his fifteen minutes. Adachi looks up at Dojima, eyes large because his face is hollowing.]

What do you want, really, detective? I'm playing by your rules, so if I've got it, I'll give it to you.

[If he has it, it's not worth holding on to.]

[For once, Dojima keeps his eyes on Adachi's face, not looking down at a cigarette or his watch or an unimportant detail on the table. Maybe he is trying to see right through him, but it's to no avail, anyway. A trouble look crosses his face as he considers the question.]

Just wanted to know why you suddenly stuck your neck out for a town you hate. I don't believe this 'I felt like it' stuff.

[Adachi shrugs - and as reactions go, the first is always the most trustworthy. It's likely that he himself doesn't know why he did it - maybe he just needed something to do, maybe he'd been thinking about it so much, that if he didn't tell anyone, he'd go mad. Sadly enough, the people who were closest to understanding him were the ones who put him here in the first place. He couldn't tell the rest of these hicks about the TV world or shadows or the voice in his head. As if prison wasn't bad enough, he would've been sedated and medicated every few hours in addition. No thanks. He'd take jail.]

I wasn't sticking my head out. I was just thinking about stuff. Thought you guys might be interested. Don't think too hard about it. You might hurt yourself.

[Dojima sighs, but he seems to accept the answer this time. Whether he accepts it as Adachi hiding something or Adachi telling the truth, though, even he's not sure.]

...Guess I'm done here.

[Adachi looks up.]

That's it? That's all you came for?

What, want me to stay for a cup of coffee and chat?

[He crosses his arms, looking towards the door.]

I just came to relay Souji's message, at his request.

[Adachi lowers his eyes then, and that's a familiar gesture - it's the same type expression he gets whenever he is duly scolded by his superior, the sort of abashed, "Oh I should've known that" look. He puts the cigarette back to his lips, and when he speaks again, the words are fettered by the obstruction. He can already see the guard on the other side of the door looking up, getting the cuffs out.

That was what, maybe fifteen minutes? It was enough.]

Oh. All right.

[It's probably the only gesture Dojima has recognized thus far. He blinks in disbelief, though; that can't be right. It's enough to cause hesitation, looking between Adachi and the guard, before he holds a hand up through the window - a "hold on a sec" gesture. The guard leans back against the wall, but cuffs still in hand.]

...I'll wait 'til you finish that. It'd be a waste if he has you put it out.

[If it surprises the guard, it surprises Adachi just as much. He snaps his attention up as he hears the clinking of the cuffs stop, the footsteps never quite reaching his side. Adachi turns his head to Dojima, expression disbelieving. He stares at the man for a second, cigarette hanging from his mouth, before another look Dojima doesn't recognize flashes across his face. For a split second, it looks like something hurts, like something is incredibly sad, and it's so fast he hardly has a moment to let it sink into his features before it disappears again.]

...Ha, how considerate. Thanks for that.

[His head lowers, face out of view.]

I like this brand.

[Dojima catches the look, and for a moment he thinks he knows what it is; but the assurance that he does is just as fleeting as the expression, gone when Adachi looks back down. He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again, leaning against the table before he speaks up.]

Yeah? It's not bad.

[It's a little awkward, carrying on a conversation without looking at the party. Is it just you, or is Adachi going through that cigarette rather slowly?]

...How's Nanako-chan?

[It works both ways, anyway; Dojima seems awfully interested in the boring, gray floor.]

...Good. Better.

[The guards are probably wondering what they could still be discussing, and Adachi's eyes linger on the handcuffs at their belts, half focusing and half not paying attention at all. Nanako was not his fault, so he feels no need whatsoever to apologize for that. Adachi classifies events as completely individual phenomena to begin with; it's doubtful he'd recognize even a mention of blame. Still, as he watched her frail, tiny body withering on the hospital bed, even he could sense that there was a heavy atmosphere of sorrow in the room.]

So it's just you two in the house now?

Edited 2010-01-03 02:35 (UTC)

[Dojima easily blamed Namatame before; up until he understood just what it was that made him do all the things he did. There's still some blame there, but he doesn't quite think Adachi's completely innocent of the incident pertaining to her. After all, if he hadn't convinced Namatame in the first place...

Brushing the thoughts aside, he gives a nod.]

Yeah, just us.

[Dojima's silent for a moment.]

Been quiet.

Edited 2010-01-03 02:48 (UTC)

[Adachi laughs a little, under his breath. (It may or may not be covering up a small cough, since he's not that avid a smoker.) He remembers the handful of times he visited the Dojima household, and it had never been 'quiet' then. Loud dinners, even drunken stupors, everything about it had seemed so lively - but it's distant now, like recalling a play after the final curtain has fallen. How dramatic, he thinks, mentally laughing at himself. The cigarette is almost done.]

It was like that before, right?

[Before Souji came, before Adachi did, before everything started turning into this terrible spiral.]

[Adachi's not wrong, certainly - it was awfully quiet before, in a much less pleasant way. Dojima didn't pull as many late nights back then, but even with the extra time he spent with his daughter, he still couldn't face her. Not with guilt still riding his shoulders so heavily, and the giant hole cut into their family. Nowadays, though, it's a comfortable quiet. It's just adjusting to another missing presence that's familiarly sad, even if it's not permanent this time. Souji's impact on them resounds still.]

Mm. Guess so. It's a little different, though.

I'm sure you'll get used to it, detective.

[Technically, the only things that have changed are things that were new to begin with - no extra person in Dojima's spare room, no extra person to pass coffee across his work table. More accurately, it's like the surface of a pool calming again once ripples have spread across it. It's all the same.]

You'll forget there was even a difference soon enough.

[You'll forget me, Adachi knows, because people rush to forget the most unpleasant things first. As soon as these fifteen minutes are over.]

[His brow furrows, eyes still fixed on the floor. It hasn't been a forgettable year in the least, but people do adapt and adjust; remember and forget. Just as Dojima still remembers being called 'Dojima-san' by this person, rather than the distant, barricading detective. It reminds him that maybe this whole small talk business is just silly, maybe a waste of time, maybe better forgotten. But there's more he wants to know - not on the level of detective to criminal, but partner to (ex-)partner. Dojima watches as the last bit of ashes fall from the cigarette to the table, like the last of sand in an hourglass. Looks like it won't be this time. Dojima leans off the table, glancing at his watch subconsciously. Sixteen minutes.]

Don't smoke 'em all in one day, yeah?

They'll take 'em away from me.

[Adachi slips a hand into his pocket, taking the rest of the carton with him, and he runs the pads of his fingers over the softened edges, the bent corners. The dying cigarette spins a line of smoke into the air, disappearing before it gets anywhere. Adachi doesn't bother to get up, but he watches Dojima with an unreadable expression as he goes. For once, he doesn't look sly or cunning, just blank, and tired.]

But I appreciate it, I owe you one.

Edited 2010-01-03 03:56 (UTC)

[It's not something he expected to hear from Adachi. He owes him for much more than a few cigarettes, after all, but he's not about to bring it up. Not this time, anyway.]

Thought you didn't like trades.

I like debts even less, which is why I'm owing you instead.

[He can hear the guard approaching, but he doesn't turn to look.]

...hm.

[Dojima gives a curt nod to the guard, heading toward the door.]

See you around, then.

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I guess that makes this AUjima 02.

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1/2

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