truthfulfool:
It should be reassuring, that Adachi doesn’t quite know why they’re still moving in the same, ever shrinking circles. But it isn’t. If Adachi had a reason, something he could voice to explain why he’s keeping him around, even if it was petty or so he could simply use Souji as a patsy later, that would be better. It would be something.
But apparently that’s not an option for them.
Souji forces his face to stay carefully blank when Adachi addresses it, the tension pulling tight between them. For a moment, he almost wants to laugh. And here he thought that was another one of those things they would never look at directly. If they don’t talk about it, it’s not real, it can be ignored, brushed past. Another in a long list of discomforts they both have to live with.
Meeting Adachi’s eyes, unflinching, he sets down the beer. It’s mostly gone anyway, the buzz not as pleasant as he would have hoped, nor as warm. He’s half sure the fog’s crept under his skin, made everything colder, harder to feel. Maybe it’s better that way.
He takes a step closer, stretching one arm over Adachi’s shoulder, palm flattening against the fridge, shifting to half block his way. The alcohol hasn’t made him unsteady yet, but Adachi could push past him with ease if he wanted to. Still… there’s something satisfying about being able to loom over him, even if only for a few moments. With how big Adachi talks, he doesn’t seem to understand just how small he is.
“Do what, Adachi-san?” Souji tips his head to one side, letting his expression take on a curious lilt. “Burn more evidence? Push another poor girl into a tv? I think we’re more than capable of doing whatever we want, partner.”
With all the other lines that have been crossed, what’s one more? What’s the harm in crossing one that might actually make him feel something more than the simmering agitation that never fades away? Haven’t they already done far, far worse?
Something about that affects him, the--no, it’s not a change, exactly, because Souji isn’t flipping through moods as it suits him like Adachi does. It’s not a change, because Adachi feels uncomfortably like he’s suddenly seeing Souji clearer than... maybe anyone else here has. He doesn’t know for certain. He doesn’t want to. Before, after December, he’d taken a perverse sort of satisfaction from the fact that in some respects he knew Souji better than his friends.
Now, it leaves him feeling uncomfortable and uneasy.
Adachi’s back hits the cold surface of the fridge when he backs up with a sharp inhale of surprise. He holds the beer can in both hands, in front of his chest like that might stop Souji from coming closer.
There’s nowhere else to look but at Souji, and for as much as Adachi’s been trying to play big bad wolf, he feels very much like maybe he was the one being hunted all along. The persistence, Souji being pushy. Adachi doesn’t want to be his quarry but here he is, getting backed into corners.
He could push past Souji, laugh it off and duck under his arm. He could. The beer can warps under Adachi’s grip. His face feels hot, cheeks red not just from the alcohol.



















