“Wooooow! His guts went all over the place! I would’ve never penned you for the type, Nanami-chan! Nishishi!” Nosy was he, his eyes naturally drawn to the game console screen. He glanced away only when it flickered to back, to the pale platinum pink eyes of his comrade. “Are you wunna those weirdos who are secretly a little too into bloody guts-all-over-the-place horror games?” It was so obviously in jest the ‘just kidding’ went unsaid, hanging in his tone instead.
“I’m never stolen from. Anything you do take from me is allowed to you by me, out of my merciful will and kindness. I’m a saintly type leader, you see, but only when I’m in the mood for it!” A pause. “…That was a lie! Of course, I’m cruel and coldhearted, yadda yadda, I’m just smart enough to know there’s a time and a place.” As Ouma rambled on and on about the usual schtick, the fingers of his free hand twitched at the word 'kleptomaniac’. His gaze briefly darted to the hair clip that Nanami was never seen without, but it was quick, easy to miss in the blink of an eye. He seemed to decide against it though.
A voice in the back of his head told him Nanami would beat him up (or something) if he even tried. He’s quick on his feet, not impulsive.
“Yanno, now that I think about it, you always wear the same hair clip every day. Is there some kinda,” his voice takes on an anticipatory tone, “secret behind it? You can tell me. Even if I told anyone else, they’d never believe me!”
his laugh always made her heart flutter with an airiness, her expression determined with a sudden smile that spans across her soft features. nimble digits unravel from binding to his wrist, letting the hands-on leader slink away should he choose to. it was nice to know he showed interest in the small things -- the finer details in her personality & appearance. fingertips brush by the galaga ship in her hair, pausing as words catch in her throat. it’s a sudden flashback, hazy & warm like a summer’s eve before nanami wobbles on her feet. the upper classmen offers nothing more than a tilt of her head.
❛ - well, if you REALLY wanna know, i don’t mind sharing a little bit about myself ; but you’ll have to promise me something. - ❜
both hands move to gently grasp one of kokichi’s own, kind & tenderly like a sister would hold her younger sibling’s shoulders.
❛ - when you know the significance behind it, promise me you won’t try to take it. - ❜
even if she trusts him, chiaki knows he’ll only throw the fact she’s doubting those feelings back in her face. what can she say? the gamer was known to find hope in doubting the darkness in others, but only after proving there was nothing to doubt in the first place. her smile remains, lazy & slow like nothing could truly shake off her subtle happiness. it’s parasitic in a positive way, as if she’s rooting into his mind itself & trying to send some good vibes ouma’s way.
❛ - the last thing i’d want to do is lose a friend over something so minuscule but also negatively meaningful. - ❜