Lights in the Deep | Open
The prosecutor remains stoic, eyes darting past Aiichiro and out into the pitch-black deep, though he doesnât see anything beyond the glass⊠but then again, would he really want to? At the same time, heâd almost rather be stuck in a room with a deep-sea terror than with the treasurer. At least a blobfish wouldnât be smoking in an area that should clearly be non-smoking.
Despite his aversion to the reasoning behind the sound, he couldnât deny that the notes resonating from the guitarâs strings were pleasant. Perhaps, if he werenât blinded by rage, he simply could have stood there and listened. But alas, his objectivity is a bit rusty as of late, but with everything going on, well⊠Ah, yes. Hilarious. He simply sighs at the smoke rings, taking another sip of coffee as he bites back the urge to ask if heâs going to enter that talent into the show as well.
âThereâs no need⊠to be⊠contrary, Koibuchi. Iâm not⊠going to lecture you. I understand thatâs⊠a battle I would⊠would not win. Iâm not asking⊠you to do that⊠only for you⊠to extinguish it⊠while Iâm in the room⊠pleaseâŠâ He ends his sentence with a light cough, as if punctuating it on accident.
This time, the drink Hozumi takes from his cup is larger, though he slowly lowers the cup from his lips at about the same time Aiichiro sets the guitar down. He notices, even as the much taller boy turns to face him, that the cigarette is still lit. Heâs⊠not sure if he expected anything otherwise, though.
Thereâs an audible âhmphâ in response to Aiichiroâs statement, though he doesnât interrupt quite yet, letting him speak. What he says, though, causes Hozumi to grit his teeth. âI cannot⊠stop you, by⊠any stretch of the imagination. However⊠do you wish to know⊠what I think?â He asks this in a way that tells Aiichiro that whether or not he wants to know, heâs going to find out. âI believe⊠there will be a murder either way. You⊠you yourself saw the kind of⊠people weâre⊠trapped here with⊠What little regard they⊠have for human life. And it shows⊠in that⊠instead of mourning⊠Kuromatsu-san⊠or even making note⊠of Minellâs⊠departure, thereâs⊠nothing. A talent show. Fun and games in light⊠of two hideous deaths. Does it not disgust you?â
What an irritating little man. Did Hozumi have any idea how much of a prick he sounded like right now? It was good that Aiichiro was in such a charitable mood right now. He flexed his fingers, clenched an unclenched his fist, but despite the red covering his vision, he wouldnât lash out. He could keep his anger under control. Heâd try his damn best.
He inhaled the smoke again, and turned his head to exhale, blowing the smoke well away from Hozumi. âYou came in here while I was practisinâ, ân then tell me I canât smoke while youâre in here? Fuck off, Uozomi, I donât gotta do shit for you.â
âYeah, itâs a talent show,â he said, âBut do you got any better ideas? I donât like most oâ these people, ân some oâ them are really shitty, but donâtâcha think that, if thereâs somethinâ that can be done, it should be done? You just wanna give up ân let the filth kill the ones who actually ainât that bad?â
He exhaled a snort of derision. âWhat am I sayinâ. Youâre a prosecutor, ainât you? Your whole job depends on people gettinâ murdered. So another one dyinâ off ainât that much of an issue to you, is it?â Knuckles cracked, he was still flexing his fingers, the only way he had right now to burn off the anger he felt.Â
"âSides, I like playinâ my guitar. Whatâs it to ya, anyway?â











