Work Text:
14 days left.
Adachi stared blankly at his calendar from his place on his bed, mainly focusing on the deadline circled in thick red ink.
In all honesty, he wasn't sure why he had chosen that date. His biggest reason being the fact it was the 23rd - an annoying date. Who wants to die on an odd number? Not even a good odd number like the 7th or 15th. The twenty fucking third.
He'd not gotten so much as a wink of sleep last night, constantly tossing and turning on that thin lumpy mattress, that felt as though he'd be better on the floor. At least his floor wasn't broken and stabbed with sharp springs. He didn't even have a pillow to rest his head on, using folded up shirts and trousers to try and create a makeshift one. It didn't matter that much regardless, he really didn't care anymore.
Life was becoming nothing but a drag, the same old routine of solitude. Wake up, be verbally abused at work, come home, drink; repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Over and over. Adachi couldn't stand it anymore. Some days he'd lay in bed until his alarm was repeatedly screaming at him to get up. Every day he'd lay in just a little later each time.. 5 minutes.. 15 minutes.. 30 minutes.. 1 hour... 3 hours..
Eventually, he began ditching work, deciding to lay in his desolate apartment and stare up at his blank ceiling. His mind always felt so empty, yet his chest so full and heavy. Emotions squeezing his heart under it could barely beat, leaving him gasping for air in his own bed.
Living was painful.
Too painful.
Every second he kept on breathing, he dreaded his life a little more. Today was the second day he'd not shown up for work - he was surprised Dojima-san even noticed his absence. But, then again, there was no one there to be screamed at or lumbered with stacks of paper work.. He had countless messages from his boss.. but he hadn't opened one. He couldn't be bothered to acknowledge anyone else's existence. Not right now.
Not as he lay, dozing off on the lumpy surface beneath him.
Everything had always been so painful. So torturous. The thought of continuing made him want to rip out his intestines right then and there. No one would miss him, he'd accepted that fact. Why would someone want him around? All he ever did was drag people down.. Even his bubbly act was beginning to falter, and he knew Dojima had noticed.
Yet another reason to avoid work - to avoid being interrogated.
You know when you've had a really bad day, and all you want to do is cry but you've managed to push the urge away for so long now - but then someone asks the simple question of, 'are you okay?' and everything comes crashing down? Like the whole world collapsed right onto your shoulders and it's too much to hold? That was how Adachi felt.
All the time.
Constantly on the urge of breaking down and ripping his cheerful facade to shreds. Of course, attempting to salvage it would be pointless.
After all, once he-
The sound of his phone ringing echoed around the room, knocking him out of his thoughts. In no hurried movements, he slung his arm over and flipped the lid of it down, immediately silencing it. No doubt about it, it was definitely Dojima-San calling him to yell at him. To make sure Adachi knew just how much of a failure he really was. To make sure he knew how badly he'd fucked up everything.
It was fine, Adachi knew that already.
12 days left
Adachi had actually made the effort to come into work. Well, as much effort as he could muster.
His hair was scruffy and sticking up everywhere, as if he'd just woken up from a coma. His clothes were wrinkled and sitting awkwardly on his frame - it was clear to everyone in the office he'd lost a bit of weight. Bags stained under his eyes, eyelids dropping from the lack of sleep. Perhaps he should invest in some sleeping pills, that way he would be able to actually knock himself out.
Even though he was already an hour late, he began getting to his job instantly.
He tried, he really did try.
Attempted to plaster his face in a bright smile, even when he walked through the doors an hour late. However it didn't last long. No one held any sympathy for the obvious indication something was wrong, based on his whole appearance. Especially not Dojima, someone who had been so determined to 'check up' on Adachi. God, he wished he hadn't come in, feeling everyone's judgmental stares.
As soon as he put up with the screaming and reminder of his fuck ups, he was alone again.
When was he not alone?
No matter where he went, or who he was surrounded by, he was always alone. No one understood him.. No one tried to stay. No one wanted to stay - and Adachi understood that more than anyone.
He'd been brought up alone, lived alone and now he was destined to die alone. There was no point in trying to break the vicious cycle, not went life hated him so much. Or perhaps he was too comforted by the idea of his own suffering, enjoyed the fact it was only him in this lonesome world.
Sat in an office, staring down at a pile of files sitting on his desk. Faintly, he could hear the quiet ticking of a clock behind him, reminding him just how alone he was. It was worse than being alone in his own house, because at least then he didn't have to constantly be on edge. In the office, he had to be fully alert to anyone who may stride in.
Sighing to himself, he began organising the files, sorting them into different piles based on importance. He couldn't even read the details or fine print, profiling them based on the first few sentences. It was fine, he wouldn't be around much longer to piss anyone else off. It didn't take long for him to become distracted again, completely lost in the dangerous spiral of his own thoughts.
His gaze shifted to the bottom right hand corner of a computer screen nearby, mentally taking note of the date. 12 days left..
12 days until he would be free of this prison. 12 days until he could relax into the peaceful release of death. 12 days until no one would ever see his face again, or have to scream his name.
12 days until he completely disappeared from existence.
10 days left
Adachi had been coming in now, still a little late but it was better than not at all.
Dojima-San had stopped talking to him, after all there was nothing to talk about with him. The brunette had been keeping to himself quietly, doing the paperwork needed, and leaving without another word.
He didn't make his boss's coffee in fear of screwing it up, he didn't ask stupid questions even he knew the answer to - he didn't utter a word.. Occasionally, he heard other colleagues discussing his sudden flip in attitude, but he didn't care. They'd be talking about him again soon, they can enjoy it whilst his alive.
Sometimes he felt Dojima stop behind him, as if he was looking for an excuse to say something - to talk to him, but no words were ever exchanged. It only reiterated the point that no one fully liked him.
If Dojima-san truly was concerned, he'd build up the courage to say something. To ask if Adachi was okay - to offer to take him home and cook him dinner. To take some of the laborious paperwork off his hands to give him a break. To sit down beside him and ask him about how his days been.
But no.
Dojima did not say anything. Didn't ask if he was okay. Didn't take him home and cook him dinner. Didn't free him of any of his stressful paperwork. Didn't ask him how his days been.
Dojima didn't care, and Adachi knew that.
Adachi didn't care either.
It made leaving the shit-hole called earth behind. He had no one dragging him down, had no one to live for. Right now he was just completing his task to the deadline, and then he could sign off this game forever.
8 days left
Adachi returning to work didn't last long.
After only 4 days of going in, he'd stopped going again. Completely.
He didn't even bother fake calling sick, or alerting Dojima of his absence. His boss would get no warning or heads up when he dropped dead, perhaps this was just foreshadowing.
Foreshadowing for when he dropped off the worlds existence without a warning. Without a note. Without a goodbye. Just lost forever.
Adachi didn't plan to return to work at all. Instead, he planned out the rest of his days - consisting of laying in bed. From dawn to dusk, not moving a muscle.
Even if Dojima harassed him with countless messages, he was sure his boss would find a better suited counterpart. Someone who didn’t consider dying every second of the day.
Occasionally, his pile of clothes would dampen from fallen tears, soaking into the fabric as if they were never there. Adachi despised crying, more than he despised living. It made him feel so weak, so helpless. As if he was giving up - but then again he was.
He was completely over his life. Completely over everything about himself. The only excitement he had left in life was waiting for the deadline to arrive.
Until then it was just torturous waiting. Adachi already knew exactly how he would do it, he’d thought about it ever since he started working there. It was possibly the only entertaining thought about that place (besides the guns).
6 days left
For once, Adachi found himself out of bed, instead sitting in front of his TV screen.
Watching the images flicker past didn’t spark an ounce of joy. Every word was a blur to him, not processing any information.
Around him were several crushed beer cans, one currently in his grasp. Even with the relief of toxins infecting his body, he still couldn’t feel at peace. It only made him think more on his ultimate decision.
Perhaps he should clean up the place before he leaves - after all his apartment was just short of a garbage dump. Moulding plates piled up in every room, trash bags filled to the brim with rubbish littered everywhere. Stains of blood and beer on his bed sheets and floor. It was disgusting.
The sight was enough to make him want to puke. But even then he didn’t care enough to change it. Whoever had the job of cleaning out his house after would hate him.
But why did he care?
He was hated regardless, one more man wouldn’t make a difference. In fact it made him want to leave it more. How many people could he inconvenience with this death?
His eyes traced over the date on the calendar.. Something felt wrong about the date.. It felt like he was missing something, which was a weird feeling considering he’d felt so empty for so long now.
Oh, that’s right.
Dojimas nephew would’ve arrived today.. He’d been replaced already. He hadn’t even died and Dojima had already brushed over his future death.
Adachi hated the feeling of jealousy that spiralled up his throat, settling heavy in his chest. All he wanted was to rip out his intestines at the thought of some young brat replacing him.
Whatever, it didn’t matter. Regardless of it he lived or died, he’d be replaced no matter what. His life was already in the trash, it was only a matter of time.
He wouldn’t care when he was dead. He wouldn’t care if some young teenager was talented and special enough to replace him.
He didn’t care.
Gulping down the beer in his can, he attempted to drown the jealousy in alcohol.
4 days left
Adachi began wondering about everyone’s reactions.
He wondered what the old woman would think. Maybe when she comes over uninvited to give him more disgusting food, she would be in for a pure shock. Or maybe she had already given up on him?
He didn’t care.
From the moment she began trying to help him out, he felt revolted. Why would anyone want to waste their time and energy on someone like him? All he had ever desired was to be alone.
He wondered if that pleasant man at the gas station would find out - news spreads fast in the boonies. It was only a matter of time until everyone found out about his passing.
Would the man miss his frequent visits for more gas? Or did he not care? Perhaps he only would only care since Adachi was a paying customer. Or maybe he’d be glad a burden like him wouldn’t be bothering his station.
He wondered about the cashiers in Junes, a place where his visits had slowly faded to nothing. He no longer went out to buy cabbages or other cheap foods, instead, he relied on half rotting food or stale bread to get him buy. There was no point waiting energy or money buying food.
Would they notice his absence? Would they miss his sorrowful amount of money? No, he didn’t matter. They had so many other customers that made up for his microscopic pay. They probably didn’t even notice his absence at all. Even now they had already replaced him with a richer alternative.
He wondered about Dojima-San..
He wondered if Dojima would think about him, even after death. If he would be nice enough to plan him a funeral, to visit his grave.. To share a nice word about him at work - of course not. Dojima didn’t care. If anything he’ll be more inconvenienced by the fact he’d had to do his own paperwork.
Plus, he already had a replacement. That bratty nephew of his.. Coming go Inaba with an important role already. A grand job of helping out Dojima in all the ways Adachi couldn't. To be a better version of him - one that didn’t fantasise about his own death.
Adachi pulled the bed sheets back over his head, he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about how he was ultimately worthless, even if he’d already discovered that.
2 days left
The sun was beginning to set, Adachi sitting on his makeshift bed.
Ever since he’d remembered Dojimas nephew, things had gone ultimately down hill. More than he could’ve ever anticipated.
Adachi had dabbled in different coping mechanisms in the past.. There was a reason why he wore long sleeved shirts, and kept himself at an arms length. The last thing he needed was for someone to find out, and treat him any different.
Treat him weak and pity him. The thought disgusted him..
Yet here he sat, sleeve rolled up and blade in his grip. Everything had hit rock bottom.
No matter how hard he tried to convince himself that he didn't care, nothing got rid of the bitterness growing inside him. The resent.
Usually, he despised feeling numb to the world. But right now, that's all he wanted. He didn't want to feel jealous towards some teenager who didn't matter. Perhaps it was because Dojima definitely his help.. Perhaps it was because he didn't matter anymore.. Even though he had spent his whole life convincing himself that his existence was meaningless.. Having Dojima accept that and move on bothered him.
It was selfish, he wanted to give up but not lose Dojima.
No, he didn't care.
He didn't care about Dojima.
He didn't want to think about Dojima.
He never wanted to see Dojima ever again.
He never wanted to hear his voice.
He never wanted to do his paperwork.
Snapping back into reality, he watched the crimson flow down his arm, pooling on his previously stained mattress.
The pain was almost unbearable, teeth gritted when he realised just what he had done. The blade clattered to the floor as his hand wrapped around the injured area. Blood immediately smeared across his palm, warm to the touch. Considering how empty and cold he felt inside, the warmth was an addicting sensation.
Gripping his arm helped to dull the pain slightly, watering eyes scattering around the room.
Stumbling to his feet, he tripped over to his kitchen and began frantically opening cupboards. Finally, he found some neglected bandages curled up in the bottom of one, grabbing it without hesitation. Adachi didn't even bother washing off the blood first, instead winding the fabric around his forearm - applying a bit of pressure to A) dull the pain, and B) stop the bleeding.
After making sure the bandage was secured tightly around his wrist, he rolled down the sleeve of his sleeve, wincing slightly every time he moved it.
However it worked..
It worked to distract him from the jealousy welling up in his chest. It worked to distract him from all the conflicting emotions based on his life.
Knock Knock
Adachi's head wiped over to the door, staring with wide eyes.
Instantly, his brain racked with thoughts of who it could be. Maybe a neighbour heard the slight panic inside? Maybe Dojima had sent someone to check up on him? Whoever it was, they had no business coming here and disturbing his 'peace'.
The last thing Adachi wanted was to socialise with someone (possibly someone worried about his well-being). But with another round of knocking, Adachi knew he had no choice but to answer.
His main plan of action was to open the door, tell them to piss off, shut and lock it - and then never see anyone ever again.
Of course his plan malfunctioned entirely when he peeled back the door and was met with a very displeased looking Dojima-san. His jacket slung over his shoulder, unlit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. His eyebrows were furrowed, and narrow eyes examining the brunette in front of him.
In that moment, Adachi felt extremely more self-conscious.
His hair matted and stuck up in all directions, some strands clinging to the sides of his face. Eyes heavy with bags, and a more hollow expression. Any colour in his face had been drained out of it, clearly not having enough Vitamin-D. Of course, his clothes were beyond scruffy as well.
For a moment, the two stared at each other, locking an unbreakable eye contact.
"Adachi.." Dojima spoke out, barely unable to get his words to come out. The sight in front of him made his heart clench - no way was this view his usually upbeat colleague.
Adachi, on the other hand, couldn't bear the investigation. The last thing he wanted was for someone to be questioning him.. To show him pity and act like they care. With no hesitation, he stepped away from the door and began swinging it shut. It wasn't like Dojima-san could break down his door and force an answer from his throat.
But what he could do was trap his foot between the door and the frame, in turn pushing it open once again. It was a pointless battle. Adachi had already begun to give up on the idea of shutting him out, or overpowering him.
"Hello.. Dojima-san.." Adachi nodded, eyes meeting the floor instantly. He refused to look at him. He already felt like a kicked, neglected puppy. "Is there something you need?" He asked, voice quieter than intended.
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence, and the brunette could hear the tension growing.
"You haven't been coming in lately.. I wanted to check in on you.." Dojima frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as he examined the state of the man in front of him. "Clearly, I see you're just ditching work."
Ouch, those words stung.
They stung so bad Adachi could almost laugh.
Just, ditching?
Oh, if only he knew what Adachi was truly planning. Perhaps if he knew Adachi was waiting for his death, he'd be a little less harsh. Or maybe he still wouldn't care. Why would he care?
"Did something.. Are you okay?" Dojima asked suddenly, shocking him out of his thoughts.
Still, Adachi refused to meet his eyes, still staring at the floor.
"Everything is fine Dojima-San.." He muttered out, perhaps not in the most convincing way. Why did he bother? Why hadn't Dojima just left him alone to die? Why wasn't he screaming or yelling in anger?
"You're bleeding Adachi-"
The words shocked him to his core. What.
His eyes snapped from his gaze to the floor to his arm.. Clearly the bandages weren't thick enough. The stain had spread across his sleeve, blossoming crimson across the snow-white fabric.
In a heartbeat, he slapped his palm around the fabric, biting back a wince of pain as he glared at Dojima. Sure, he wasn't angry at Dojima, more so angry at himself for being so stupid. For being so careless.
"It's nothing. I just bumped my arm whilst I was cleaning." He excused, biting his bottom lip.
Dojima didn't look convinced, "That seems pretty severe for a bump. Let me have a look-" He sighed, stepping into the apartment.
"No!" Adachi almost yelled, taking a step back in unison, "You should leave Dojima-San.. I'll be fine." He frowned. Things could go so down hill.
Dojima frowned and looked around the apartment. He took his time examining each detail, most definitely noticing Adachi had not been cleaning. After all, his house was messier than ever.
But he didn't say another word.
Instead he turned around and walked away, leaving Adachi in the dust.
The brunette wasn't sure if he was relieved, or extremely hurt by the lack of Dojima's care.
At least he had nothing to live for anymore.
1 day left
Adachi hadn’t heard anything from Dojima.
No calls, no texts.
No anything
Adachi wasn’t sure why he wanted the older man to reach out for him. After so long of being in Inaba, all he had wanted was to be alone. To be forgotten and left to die.
But now some stupid part of his brain was begging for Dojima to come back. To not look at him with that same pitiful look in his eyes when he saw the state that Adachi was in.
He told himself it didn’t matter, tomorrow it would all end. No more grief about Dojima, no more boredom. Nothing.
Adachi should be glad Dojima wasn’t trying to interfere with his plans, he’d waited so long for the moment, stopping it now would be torture.
He’d fantasised about it for so long now, dreamt about having the sweet relief of death.
It wasn’t like he had an excuse to go back now. Dojima had surely left him for dead now, already digging up a grave for him.
The only decent thing left in his life, and his only excuse to keep breathing had now left him entirely. Surely that must’ve been a sign? Surely whatever supernatural being was watching over, was leading him to his death - by removing everything good in his life.
You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink.
Yet that paranormal being ensuring his suffering was most definitely making him drink.
Drink up every last ounce of pain and sorrow until he was drowning inside.
Death was the only option left.
0 days left
Adachi knew what day it was.
He’d been counting down the hours leading up to the crack of dawn.
As soon as the sun rose in the sky, he was off. Beyond ready.
He didn’t need much. Just himself.
No letter to leave behind, no nice belongings to cell. Not a phone that could distract him. Nothing.
The drive to the car park was extremely dismal. The soft patting of rain against the window urged the car on. There was no stopping now.
A few times his speed increased a little too much, but he didn’t care.
He was dying anyway.
Practically a dead man already.
He hadn’t bothered to turn on the radio, he wouldn’t listen to any of it anyway. Nothing else mattered to him besides his task at hand. The one he’d been preparing for longer than he’d learnt to talk.
Adachi parked his car in the furthest away parking lot, after all, being noticed now would put a damper on his plans.
Leaving his keys in the car, he got out and slammed the door shut. He wouldn’t be needing that lump of scrap metal anymore.
Empty eyes journeyed back to the large blocks buildings, towering up into the sky. There was no backing down now.
Walking into the police station, he kept his head low and didn’t utter a word. All all he had to do was avoid everyone and make his way up those stairs. Many, many stairs.
Attempting to keep to the outlines of rooms or in the shadows, he quickened his pace. The last thing he wanted was to be found out now.
Gripping onto the railing, he placed one foot onto the step. His first step to relief-
“Adachi-San? What are you doing here?” A unfamiliar voice behind him asked.
Whipping around, Adachi was met with the face of a concerned colleague, staring at him as if he was seeing a ghost (he practically was).
Fuck, he needed to shut this down. If they stood here talking, more people would see, and more people would come over.
“Just.. here to collect some of my paperwork..” He finally got out, voice not holding its usual joy. He didn’t have the energy to. He was about to die anyway.
There was no point.
Although, he did find the thought amusing - being all cheerful and jolly to their faces seconds before jumping to his death.
“Dojima-San said you were sick and taking the week off. You should go home.”
The words hit him like a knife. Dojima had actually.. covered for him? Made up an excuse for why he was ditching work so much? Honestly, the lie was believable. He looked like shit.
“Yeah.. Yeah i’ll be gone soon I just need a file..” He excused, itching to turn around and sprint up the stairs. He’d already been set behind too much.
“right we’ll.. be careful.. Get home safely, okay?” he asked, examining Adachi with a weary look. The brunette was wanted to rip out his own eyes, the last thing he wanted to see was someone pitying him like that.
Without saying another word, he nodded quickly and disappeared up the stairs.
Each time he would miss a step in between, desperate to find his deathbed. His hand gripped the steel railing tightly, knuckles fading into a snow white.
He managed to make it to the roof without bumping into anyone else. Thank God.
Finally the world was allowing him to be be at peace.
Rain immediately soaked him, drenching him down to the bone. He didn’t care. He didn’t let the icy winds deteriorate his mentality.
To sway his determination.
Pushing through the harsh winds, he stumbled towards the edge. There was no safety gate, also as if they wanted him to topple over the edge. Surely after this, one would be built up.
Slowly, he pushed forward, stopping just before the small edge. Without hesitating, he slipped off both his shoes and allowed nature to destroy them in the rain. Soon enough, mother nature could have her way with his dead corpse.
Stepping up onto the small ledge, he tried his hardest to remain calm.
This is where it all ends.
This is where the pain stopped.
Finally, he could already taste the freedom.
The brick felt like ice beneath his feet, but he really couldn’t care.
No matter how much he'd prepared for this moment, nothing compared to the true feeling. The anxiety rushing through his veins, adrenaline trying to urge him away from the danger.
A part of him didn't want to look down, fearing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to complete the task at hand. Fearing that the off putting sight would cause his body to freeze up. He had to jump soon, it was only a matter of time before someone noticed him.
This was finally it.. He was finally going to be free from his wretched world.
His arms slowly expanded out into a T position, feeling the winds threatening to topple his body over the edge, plummeting to his death. Just one small nudge, that's all it took. Just one more gust of wind and he'll be spiralling towards the floor at a life threatening pa-
"Adachi.." A voice called out to him.
Snapping his head around to view who had called out to him, his brain malfunctioned.
Dojima-San..
Stood a few steps away from the door, drenched in the bitter rain. His eyebrows were furrowed in worry, body frozen up in a position ready to start sprinting. A hand was extended out towards him, inviting him back to safety.
"Adachi don't do this.." he continued, testing the waters by taking a microscopic step forward, hand getting every so slightly closer.
The brunette didn't know what to do. He could easily hurl himself over and not have to deal with the pain or guilt anymore.. Not have to deal with the aftermath of it all. But, something was stopping him. It was like he'd stepped in wet cement, slowly hardening over his feet and preventing him from just ending it all.
"Adachi.. Come on.. Please.." The older man spoke out once again, this time taking a larger step towards him.
Just jump.
Just do it.
Don't let him stop you.
You'll only be in more pain after.
"Adachi.. Please.." Another step closer.
Fucking jump.
There's no point to stay around.
He'll ship you off to some mental asylum.
Your life will become a living hell.
"Adachi.." Another step closer.
Fucking jump.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
Do it.
"Don't jump.. Please for the love of God, don't jump.." Two more steps closer.
Don't let him get you.
Don't let him get you.
Don't let him get you.
Strong arms trapped him in a suffocating grip. It was a large contrast, the warmth of the embrace compared to the slicing winds. They both collapsed to the floor, Dojima refusing to loosen his grip. No words were exchanged, only the soft sound of rain falling around them.
Tears bubbled in the brunette's eyes, thinking back to his failure. Why hadn't he just jumped? He didn't want this. The feeling of comfort made him want to throw up. Feeling Dojima wrapped around him made him want to throw himself off the edge for real.
It only got worse when he felt a soothing hand rubbing up and down his back, treating him like some fragile China doll.
But Adachi was already broken.
There was no point being gentle.
"How-" Was all he managed to get out, before breaking down into tears.
Usually, his sobbing sessions were in the peace of his own apartment, where no one had to hear or be a witness to them. Adachi was aware it wasn't a pretty sight, determined by seeing the aftermath of his face in the mirror every time. Eyes puffy, lips swollen, cheeks bruised red.
Tears mixed into the rain, making it hard to make out what was grief, and what was nature.
"I saw your calendar in your apartment.. The ripped off dates and the last one circled.." Dojima frowned, his own voice just as weak, "Why Adachi..?"
Of course, how could he have been so stupid? Of course it was a bad idea to have your death date strung up on your apartment wall so casually. Then again, he was never expecting anyone to come 'round and check on him. Otherwise he would've stashed it away where only he could see it.
Then came the other question. Why?
How was Adachi supposed to tell Dojima everything was fake? From the minute he got there, all he had wanted to do was end his life. That it exhausted him every day to plaster on a facade of happiness. That he didn't see the excitement in life and was completely burnt out? He couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to find the words, instead choking out weak sobs in reply.
"I've got you Tohru.. I've got you.." Dojima whispered, bringing a hand up to comb ringers through his matted and dripping hair.
Adachi didn't want Dojima to have him.. He wanted to be alone. Dead.
Absolutely obliterated on the ground below, as his bones snapped in the wrong ways and guts seeped out his body. He wanted the crimson of his blood to mix with the clarity of the rain.
"I've got you."
1 day of living.
Adachi didn't see the point, but he couldn't argue with Dojima.
He hadn't given a single motive for his 'sudden' change in character. Yet Dojima still kept him around his house. He refused to let Adachi go home, refused to let Adachi be alone. No matter what he did or where he went, he always made sure eyes were on Adachi.
It was a bit strange adjusting to his cold attitude, but the older man could manage.
All he wanted was for Adachi to be okay.
And all Adachi wanted was to be dead.