He wasn’t sure when the occasional dinner at the Dojimas had turned into him being invited around at least once a week by either Dojima himself or Souji. More often than not he found himself sitting around that small table, chatting away to Nanako or Souji and sharing food. It was convenient to keep suspicion off of him, although he suspected this wouldn’t last. They would find some reason to leave him behind, eventually. Always did. It was one such night, though the table had been cleared and the television’s volume turned right down with Nanako in bed and Dojima passed out on the couch from a few too many beers. Adachi was getting there too, slowly sipping at his current can of liquor and looking out the window into the backyard. How they had gotten on to this topic, he had no idea. Maybe something on the television had sparked it but somehow the question of why people do terrible things had come up. It was more of an off-hand remark, than anything else but Adachi’s mind fixated on the comment. "Everyone has the potential to do some pretty awful shit, being a cop shows you that… but at the same time you always think ‘that’s never going to be me’. I’ll never cross that line. But at the end of the day… you never know what might be the breaking point, y’know?" he murmured, gaze still fixed on the view beyond the glass door and his beer resting idle in his hand, condensation on his fingertips. "Sorry, this is kind of a messed up topic, I don’t even know why I brought it up…" He thought of bodies on telephone wires and static on television screens. "…Think something dark’s living down in my heart,” he murmured so softly the words could have been lost as he rubbed a hand over his face and got to his feet, downing the last of his beer. "I should head home."
