Mukidashite: Okaeri

Good Cop/Bad Cop (Tohru)

Dojima's here again.

He told me over the phone I'm getting out. My lips twitch into a grin that I try to suppress. Need to look 'better'.

We're sitting at a small table in a room full of people again. Can't he get them to let us go somewhere quieter? I wish their useless voices would shut up so I could hear the details better.

Dojima's going on about the ankle bracelet now. Boring. I'll just get it off.

I glance down: my shoes barely tie shut. There's no way they make one small enough. Which reminds me that I need to keep more food down. It's a plus, looking defenseless and aggravating the people who think they're in charge, but I need more energy.

I look up through my messy hair at Dojima. He keeps folding and unfolding his hands, like he can't talk if they're too still. He'll get upset if I reach out.

So I do. I place one of my thin hands over his when he starts to unfold them again.

"...Adachi." He looks sad. Dojima's been so lenient since he started coming here. I usually can't irritate him, which irritates me. "You need to take your hand back. We should look professional," he says in that tired voice. So I squeeze his hand instead.

I can see Dojima holding back a frown. Just yell at me like you used to—

He takes my hand and puts it back on my side of the table, like I'm some kind of child. "You're coming home with me. It'll be alright."

I didn't need comfort, idiot.

He smiles tentatively. I push more. I put my hand back and won't let go this time. I can tell my eyes are staring too much. All the other useless people can tell my eyes are laughing at them. Why can't he?

"One of the other murderers told me I have crazy eyes. I told him the voices appreciate the compliment. Then I threatened him with ghosts. Fucking idiot almost pissed himself."

Why don't my eyes scare him?

Dojima's going red, still trying to pry me off. I saw him wince when I said 'other murderers'. He has to be pretending everything's fine; because it can't be. I won't blend in again.

"Adachi—" I start squeezing his hand. "Jeez that hurts!" He didn't know how strong I was. If he's really fine with the way I am, then I'll show him what he's been missing.

"You know I'm not sorry." I hear it come out of me as a hiss.

"Yes, I know—" Dojima. Placating.

"You can't still want me."

Dojima's eyeing the guard in the other side of the room. He's starting to panic. "Yes, I do. Now move your hand, please."

What the fuck? I got a 'please'?!

"Yell at me." I glare at Dojima, staring him down.

"No," he snaps. "You need to get off."

I smirk.

"I can't." Dojima grits his teeth. He's sweating. "Feel my fingers, Adachi."

"Call me Tohru, fuckup," I demand.

"Tohru—" He gasps.

I unclamp immediately. "What, am I in charge now?" I lean forward over the table, pressing my luck with the guards.

"Read the papers." Dojima shoves the folder across the table. At least he looks hurt. Not as good as angry, but I guess that's what separates us in here from them out there.