The Fools Game.

  Adachi dropped Dojima’s tie to the ground among all the scattered buttons - just a few little bits to add to the mess, and he wasn’t worrying about it at all. He was about to kick the tossed clothes out of the way when his back was pressed to the wall, and a leg between his own that prompted a small half-pleased, half-surprised noise.

What he was into? The color within his tan cheeks deepened. He hadn’t given sex or unique ways of doing so much thought. His wife had always been quiet and gentle and the act almost came out of necessity than desire. He loved her dearly but even he couldn’t think of one time the act had been creative. It was always simple and to the point. Now here he was, pinning his younger partner to a wall like he was half attempting to subdue a criminal. He’d never admit it, but the idea was thrilling, “Never had the need to-“ He muttered, ignoring the statement entirely. It was obvious what he wanted now. What they wanted.

His reply was cut off with Dojima’s lips on his own again, barely a noise of protest escaping him before he just let it go. The other detective always tasted of tobacco and alcohol - Adachi had come to enjoy it so much he wouldn’t even pester him to quit, despite how much it was probably needed. It wasn’t as if Adachi had much of a romantic bone in his body either - he was always all lust, aggression, and possessiveness more than anything, his kisses messy and rushed.

The faintly audible confirmation had been all the older detective needed before his grip on the thin dress shirt tightened and ripped downwards, pulling what was left of the buttons and leaving them scattered at their feet. It left his partner bare, but his thin fingers were working at keeping them on a level playing field. His tie was pulled down and his shirt was removed in a kinder fashion. He made a mental note to get the kid a nicer shirt than he already owned, but for now his mind was on other things.

  "At some point." He echoed with a light chuckle, the edge taken off his anger. It was surprisingly… nice to experience this level of honesty and affection from a non-drunk Dojima. As he was pulled closer, he threw an arm over the older man’s shoulders and ran a hand through his hair.

The kiss had been both expected and unexpected. Regardless, the older man sooner responded with a soft nip to keep the younger man in check, “Don’t let that go to your head- if I see you slacking off again-“ There would be more than just a smack to worry about. Though that was the end of his aggression and while he wanted another tasting of liquor, he took the second best thing by sampling what taste was left from his partner’s mouth. He had never been a true romantic and perhaps it would have had his own marriage suffer, but the rough affection seemed to work well between the two. He had thought at times the two had unresolved rage to dissolve and what better outlet than this?

  He barely had a second to be happy with getting to hold Dojima’s hand before Yu was brought up and he felt a surge of anger at the mention. What has that brat been saying about me? It took an immense amount of self-control not to shove himself away from Dojima right in that moment. His lips briefly pressed together in an annoyed line, and he straightened up.

A careful look was given to Adachi given the tightening of his jaw. Maybe it was too personal to bring up in regards to the teenager, but the boy had done so much to help improve his life. He had to admit, he wouldn’t have ever changed had it not been for him or his gaggle of odd friends. Still, the kiss along his scruffy jawline caused his gaze to flutter a moment. He hadn’t let the kid do that in quite some time, and as if to apologize for his previous statement, the younger detective would find the favor returned, though it lingered with the older man taking a step forward to close the gap between them, “Or, you can clean this place at some point.” A puff of air drifted down the young man’s shirt at his superior chuckling, “And… you’re right. You have us.” Like he had him.

  So typical of Dojima to withdraw back as fast as possible after coming out of his shell for even a minute. As he got up, Adachi followed him, but instead of showing him to the door, he caught the older detective’s wrist.

He hadn’t expected his wrist being caught, nor to have Adachi implore for him to stay. It caused the older man’s brows to arch and stare off to where the young man was, looking at him like he was a kid who wanted a new toy. It was enough to cause Dojima to give him another half lidded look of disapproval but he was here for a reason, wasn’t he? Everything he said wasn’t meant to be taken and tucked away into one of the many storage bins that littered the apartment, “I never said-“ Well he didn’t say he wasn’t going to go to work at some point today, he just didn’t think to bring up the case, “Tch, nevermind.” A broad hand twisted in Adachi’s gentle hold and the thinner detective would find himself being tugged roughly forward.

  Adachi picked quietly at his food as Dojima spoke. He might have been hungry before, but now that all of this was on his shoulders, he didn’t feel so much like eating anymore. Not quite half done, he put the lid back on the takeout box and moved it a little aside, tapping his fingers nervously on the neck of the beer bottle as he tried to get words straight.

Silence kept his lips sealed as he finished his drink moments after his younger partner had. Why did he bother going this far? Was it the fear of being alone again? Reverting back into his old self and making Nanako suffer at the same time? Or was it something else more selfish? “Just for today-“ He was quick to resume his stern tone, settling the bottle onto the table with a rough thud. He gave Adachi a flat look, though it was sooner replaced with another slight grin to match the growing devious look on the younger man’s face, “And when we get back to work- it’s just that, understood? No, trying to pull what you did before-“ He almost strangled the kid the one time he tried to show affection in a public place.

  Just as Dojima wasn’t the best at being honest and giving praise, Adachi wasn’t the best at receiving it. Even though it was the thing he craved, he spent so much time feeling sorry for himself and telling himself that no one appreciated him that when it did happen, he didn’t know how to respond.

Dojima took his partner’s expression at face value. He was just tired and perhaps didn’t expect him to say such things. Why would he? His older partner had made every attempt to keep him at arms length until desire was too great. Now here he was, fearing Adachi might up and leave once all of this comes to an end, “…Well, let’s just say it’s overdue.” He finally admitted, leaning forward and watching the thin young man pick at his food. Normally he was devouring by now. Maybe the topic of conversation made it hard to enjoy it. His lips twisted to one side slightly as he leaned into one fist. Something else had gone on long since said, “…And as much as you piss me off sometimes, I enjoy spending time with you too.”

  Since when is it ever too early for you to drink, Adachi thought scathingly while dumping some of those takeout boxes into the kitchen trash bin, but outwardly kept smiling.

The senior detective watched Adachi fluttered about his apartment like a worker bee in a crowded hive. He always made it sound like he didn’t have much to his name, but this sight certainly said otherwise. Unless, all of this really was trash. The stern look etched onto Dojima’s features gave way to quiet worry. Maybe he really was working him too hard, “Yu always mentions you slacking off at Junes, but come to think of it, I haven’t seen you there since the last time I chased you out.” He smirked faintly and finally took a seat at the table, not reaching for anything but the beer settled in front of him. Good, it was a brand he liked, not the cheap stuff either. He paused on how Adachi could afford such a thing but shrugged and sipped anyway.

  "Sorry," Adachi apologized to Dojima instinctively, rubbing beneath his eyes, wondering just how badly tired he looked. He wasn’t doing a good job of not letting his stress show. "Lots of work. I was just… trying to relax a bit."

“You’re working this hard when we’re about to close this? Look, even I have my reservations about those first two murders but,” He blinked as the door cracked open further to grant him access, “Ah, forget it. I’m not here to talk about work.” For once. It was hard for him to even say such a thing, as work usually was the only pastime he had to keep himself sane. That or drinking, “It’s a little early to be drinking,” Dojima started, taking one last hit from the cigarette before rubbing out the embers along the brick edge of the apartment, “…but maybe it can be a quiet celebration.” The smile didn’t last long on his face however as he stood at the doorway peering into the expanse of the tiny apartment.

  The blinds were closed even though it was still light outside, shrouding Adachi’s apartment in a comfortable warm darkness; he sat on the floor in the middle of the dark mess, slowly organizing a pile of small trinkets into a box open next to him. There were many boxes just like it stacked around the apartment, accompanied with tossed old clothing and miscellaneous garbage. Not pretty. What did he care? No one came by.

Even if it was only for a second, the tired look in Adachi’s grey eyes were noticed. Perhaps he came at a bad time. Dojima’s expression shifted slightly from it’s annoyed outlook to something softer. Regardless, he didn’t look the younger man in the face just yet, “I hope you weren’t sleeping, it’s the middle of the day.” It would figure he would sit around doing nothing on the days he had off. Maybe he wasn’t so work minded lately after all. After feeling somewhat foolish, the older man pulled the cigarette from his lips and expelled a bit of smoke to the side, “Anyway, I wanted to check in. You looked more tired than usual yesterday.” It was likely all those extra hours he was putting in compiling files for Kubo and some other list he hadn’t been briefed on yet. Something about delivery trucks, “…And, ah, I wanted to say I appreciated how hard you’ve been working lately. It shows that hot shot detective you keep talking about from the city.” He finally gave Adachi a wry smile.

Ryoji had this thing with landing in the most uncomfortable places, usually in places that involved a cold, hard, and extremely unforgiving, ground. He supposed it was better than landing in the trashcans some years ago when he was still trying to work out the details with uh, how did those creatures call this kind of travel again? By portals or something… Anyway, Ryoji wasn’t picky with names but sometimes with the strange magic that lurked behind the scenes, he couldn’t really help but forget. Maybe it was because he had better things to remember, or maybe he just couldn’t be bothered altogether. Well, anyway, he was busy rubbing his sore spine when he finally noticed his surroundings. It was dark for one but his cerulean irises adjusted quickly to the midnight air.

He really must be tired. The detective briefly rubbed at an eye before refocusing on the sight within the television graveyard. There was someone in there, and judging by the look of it, they were both foreign and not a local to Inaba. At least he spoke Japanese, he never did well during his English classes to retain anything to talk to European or American tourists. Though his speech patterns were overtly friendly, too excited even. It clearly didn’t match well enough to the surly looking man who was pulling his cigarette from his lips to speak, “First of all, what’s your name and why are you toiling around in this place?”

  Naoto caught the distraught look even from where she stood across the room, and it made her nervous - she was never really good with dealing with other peoples’ emotions, especially when it came to someone difficult to comfort like this.

The older detective remained silent. Even if everything was truly ‘taken care’ of and that the world has been restored to a state before the fog drifted in, it did not aid in this growing sense of helplessness. What if it happened again? Nor did this help with Adachi’s case. Calloused fingers grabbed at short bits of greying black hair before he slowly drifted back. For now, Dojima’s expression was hard to read, “Yeah, it’ll give you long enough to contact him.” He saw through Shirogane’s planning. Even if the detective was continuing her schooling her, she was often more absent then present. Perhaps she would try to see the silver haired young man in person before golden week came about.

  As Dojima leaned forwards, Naoto leaned ever so slightly backwards. She wasn’t enjoying how angry the man was looking, and how much he was drinking - her gaze flickered towards the door for an instant, as if measuring the possibility of an escape attempt should she need it.

The older detective watched solemnly as Naoto moved over the expanse of the living room and touched the screen. When nothing occurred, Dojima released a slow aggravated sigh. With there being little proof behind this ‘fantasy’ world, there would be no way to be at ease regarding the case. No hopes of lessening Adachi’s case, and should anything else occur, he would be utterly in the dark. The feeling of being trapped an unarmed welled up within the middle aged man, and with that, Naoto would catch a look of quiet torment in his eyes. If Dojima hated anything more than not being able to conclude a case, it was feeling helpless.

  Naoto avoided Dojima’s gaze, looking instead at the living room floor. She could tell Dojima that the gas station attendant had been taken care of and take a weight off his shoulders concerning Adachi’s case, but simultaneously incriminate herself as having something to do with them. Or let him cling onto this forever. Judging by how easily his drinking was going, maybe this wasn’t healthy for him.

This wasn’t getting anywhere, was it? Dojima’s thick brows twitched once before a chair was pulled out and he took to sitting. The craving for a cigarette was almost as overwhelming as wanting to get to the bottom of this crap. He took notice of the teen’s eyes flaring for an instance at the drawing and found himself glancing back down to it. Personally, he didn’t understand it fully, “It was something I scribbled up while I was on the phone with the warden.” He had to go through the same questions to prove his mental stability regarding the situation. Low and behold, the four pearled dragon sat clear as day.