[Ironically, "nothing better to do" is an acceptable answer to Shinjiro, perhaps moreso than any concern given to his personal well-being. It still feels a little silly to accept the notion that losing his grip on himself like that is something that might need "treatment", but taking a few minutes to warm up indoors isn't the worst thing in the world.
He does briefly wonder at what Kitsuragi means about being "very familiar" with these kind of attacks, yet it seems so impossible to picture this man in a similar state that his mind simply supplies that perhaps the older man finds himself in a position of dealing with messed up people like this often.]
...Just for a bit, alright?
[Maybe if he doesn't look at Kitsuragi as he scuttles in through the held-open door he can feel less embarrassed about it? He's certainly giving it the old college try, anyway, staring doggedly at his worn old shoes alone as he makes his way in and follows the detective to his apartment.]
Don't worry, it's not as though I barred the door behind you, [ Kim says wryly, guiding Aragaki down to sit on the couch. The apartment itself is relatively untouched from when Kim had arrived here, but being that it was already fully furnished, it's a cozy space, a haven away from the eerie emptiness of the City that awaits them outdoors. ]
Sit. I'll be right back.
[ Kim retreats into the nook of a kitchen, placing a hand over the kettle sitting on his stovetop, nodding in satisfaction as he realizes it's still warm from the tea he'd been drinking before he'd set out into the City. He lets it heat back up as he rifles through his cupboard for this and that. He's never been the best at dealing with others' panic attacks, admittedly, but you don't persevere in his line of work for as long as he has without having to deal with them time and time again. A drink, something to eat, a warm blanket, a gentle voice: without the same gift for people as some of his peers, it's all he is able to provide. It's generally the least that he can provide, considering he leaves people behind, bereft of what the world had looked like before tragedy, never to look back.
When he re-emerges from the kitchen, it's with a hot cup of tea - decaf, some sort of herbal tea he'd picked up from the store - and a packet of saltines and a packaged chocolate bar. Heat, sugar, calories. That's the cure. ]
Here. You don't have to eat, but you should at least drink.
[ It'll calm the kid down, having to slowly sip at the hot drink, focusing on the warmth underneath his fingers instead of the storm inside his head. He refilled his own cup, more so that he'd have something to hold as well than anything else, and sits directly across from Aragaki, legs crossed. He gives the kid some time to recover, content for the moment to sit in silence.
He'll ask what happened soon -- and still, the question is heavy in the air, his own curiosity a given. But he doesn't want to send him spiraling down again. He needs a second to breathe. ]
[He slumps into a chair awkwardly, hands tucked into his pockets as he waits for Kitsuragi in the kitchen, and picks at the worn lining of his coat as he tries to resist the urge to start pacing a hole in the older man's floors or indeed run right off out that unlocked door while he's gone. It's an unsettling sensation, for someone to be off doing something for his sake; he feels nakedly vulnerable in a way he rarely does, too thoroughly seen for comfort. Honestly, the only thing that keeps that discomfort from splashing back onto Kitsuragi is how well the older man has intuited and respected his boundaries to now, only crossing over into unsolicited concern and assistance insofar as what could be construed by any reasonable person as genuine emergency. Shinjiro appreciates that more than he's willing to admit out loud.
So when Kitsuragi comes back with the hot tea, Shinjiro doesn't actually bother with any further protest, token or otherwise, warming his hands and face against the mug and the faint steam emerging from it. The chocolate bar is left to the side for the moment, though. He's not sure his hands are steady enough to open it, and struggling with that would certainly send him over the threshold of embarrassment he's able to tolerate about his current state.
He's content with the silence, though; there's something almost comforting in it, but the weight of being observed catches up with him eventually. He doesn't move to explain himself, exactly, but he take a moment to say something he couldn't earlier, when he was first coming down from the panic:]
Few people actually find Kim reassuring. There are those who respond better to a more empathetic, active approach, those who wish to be coddled and soothed, those who need to hear gentle platitudes, those who need to be told that everything is going to be all right. Kim can't provide any of those things. He never could. But what he can provide is a soft place to fall; a quiet voice, a warm home, a steady, nonjudgmental stare.
Or a judgmental one, depending on the circumstances, but he whips that one out more on a professional basis than a personal one. He takes a sip of his own tea, expression as mild as it ever is, as though Aragaki had come here for a regular visit instead of practically collapsing outside of his temporary abode. ]
I won't make you talk about whatever that was, [ he says, steady as he ever is. ] Some things are private.
[ He knows that better than most. He glances out the window, the streetlight reflecting off of the thick lens of his glasses. ] But if you want to tell me what that was all about, I'll listen.
[It's a little funny how things work out. If Kim had simply asked him what had happened, Shinjiro would have likely clammed up immediately, grown tense and thrown up his walls. But the assurance that he won't be asked to share if he doesn't want to -- that he can simply keep drinking his tea and walk back out the door whenever he wants without explanation -- loosens his tongue just a little.
He still hesitates, even so, too used to simply hunkering down and bearing his struggles in silence on his own, but after a long moment, he sets the mug back down, staring into it instead of looking up at the older man.]
...I went to the thing, from that one network post. The fight. Brought up some old shit, I guess.
[The most downplayed possible way to phrase it, but it's a mark of the trust Kim has gained that Shinjiro got out anything at all, really.]
The network... oh. That. [ Kim pauses, a little awkward now. He hadn't quite paid attention to what was going on there. Sure, he'd check it every now and then, but ultimately finds the whole thing challenging -- he has no idea how to work his phone, let alone those odd games that popped up, and typing is a laborious affair as he pecks at every key with his index finger.
He really wishes he had learned how to use a radiocomputer. He'd seen the post, discarded it as thoughtless posturing that he didn't have the patience to learn how to respond to, and had promptly forgotten about it. After all, what sort of madman would actually volunteer to kill or be killed for the sake of a mystery?
He pinches at the bridge of his nose. ]
I'm still not great at using this thing, [ he says, gesturing to his communicator, screen side down on the coffee table. ] I didn't realize they actually did it. [ Hold up. ] Wait, why did you go? Were you -- involved in all that?
[ If Shinji came here straight after killing a woman, that's a different story. Not that he knows what to do with it if he did. It was clearly a consensual killing. But still. ]
[There is a kneejerk reaction here that Shinjiro will be embarrassed by in a moment, but the moment the implication arises from that question, it escapes from his throat before he even really has a moment to think about it:]
I didn't kill her!
[His face grows a little hot thereafter, not solely because of the tea. He didn't help her either, his mind helpfully supplies. He didn't interfere. He stood there and watched her die as she asked and then went and put her corpse to rest in the gardens because it felt like the least cowardly way to react to knowing what she was going to do.
A sudden flash of her crushed-in skull overlays the apartment, there and then gone. He doesn't quite descend back into the panic, but there's a singular moment, a violent twitch of his fingers against the cup as his eyes go elsewhere, and then he's back.]
...It was just, if you're gonna pull a stupid stunt like that, might as well -- at least have people who can back up that it happened, or there's--no proof. Whole thing's pointless.
[Another twitch. A bit of the liquid sloshes out, this time, and Shinjiro sets the cup down at last, almost reluctantly.]
Besides, she couldn't just... leave her body layin' out there.
[One doesn't really need to be a detective to catch onto exactly what Shinjiro's implying about his particular role in the whole affair, but he can't quite bring himself to verbalize it, either. Especially since his focus seems to have diverted toward regulating his breathing, which has gone just a touch shallow again.]
I didn't say you did, [ Kim says, his face as unmoving as stone.
That's a reaction. Nobody wants to be accused of murdering a woman in cold blood. That's fair enough. And what Kim said could be construed as accusing Shinji of being a killer. That's fair enough too. Still, it's the biggest outburst he's seen from the kid, and it doesn't feel as though it's coming out of nowhere. Past false accusations? Maybe. He's a street rat, that much has become obvious. He's probably used to being scapegoated for this and that. Kim takes a sip of his tea, giving Aragaki a long, measuring look, predominantly because he doesn't know what the hell to say to any of that.
To involve a kid in this grisly affair, to go through with it no matter who's watching... he can't approve of that. But vocalizing any of that won't get him anywhere except for surly defensiveness and a speedy exit. This is the sort of thing that requires tact. He sets the mug down and sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. ]
You should have never been put into that position, [ he says frankly. ] I hope you know that. I would never condone this happening in the first place, but being that it did, they could have at least brought in someone accustomed to dealing with the aftermath to deal with it.
Was there anyone else with you, besides the victim and the perpetrator? Or did you have to deal with the body alone?
I offered. She tried to talk me out of goin', even. It wasn't her fault.
[Kim tries to sidestep around any potential defensiveness on Shinjiro's part, but there's still a note of it in his response, almost too quick. It doesn't come with immediate retreat, at least; Shinjiro doesn't seem angry about it as much as he seems lost -- he hadn't anticipated it would affect him like this, with a faint tremor in the line of his shoulders even now. He hadn't been thrilled with the idea, of course, but he'd assumed it would be something he could handle. It's not as though Amada's mother is the only dead body he's ever seen in his life; dead junkies, homeless people, and criminals weren't exactly uncommon, in the sketchier parts of Iwatodai.
Then again, he hadn't been prepared to see her get her skull crushed in like that, either. He'd expected something clean, easy like a stabbing or a bullet, and the visceral horror waits for him right behind his eyelids, as though etched there by fire.]
But yeah, there were others. Bunch of people wanted to see the proof, I guess.
[For his own part, he just didn't want to be a coward and look away, knowing it was happening.]
[ It's only natural for someone to try to defend someone so recently deceased. It's natural for that to happen even in the events of natural deaths; Kim can't count how many funerals he's been to where people wind themselves in knots extolling the non-extant virtues of the deceased. People don't like to speak ill of the dead.
And from what he knows of the young woman who died, her crime isn't malice. It's neglect. But it's folly nonetheless. If she doesn't return, she is left in the quiet peace of death, while Shinji trembled upon his doortstep, unable to keep himself together. Kim sighs, long and slow. He's not going to get anywhere pursuing that avenue of questioning.
(Not questioning. Comfort. For god's sake, Kitsuragi, you're not a cop here.) ]
And did the others assist you in dealing with the body? Did they... [ He tries to search for words. If there were others there, then how did Shinji wind up here? Did nobody think to check on him? ] Did you leave right after it was taken care of?
[A couple others had offered assistance, and when it was done, he immediately ran off on his own. It's not as though he has a home here, for people to look him up. What little presence he's had on the network has largely been his insistence that he doesn't feel inclined toward solving the mysteries of this place. Reaching out to someone is difficult when their hand isn't anywhere in sight, purposely hidden away.
On some subconscious level, that's probably why he came here. Nobody would have thought to check on him because he doesn't really know anyone, but Kitsuragi would care if he happened to come out and see him.
At the same time, Shinjiro feels like he knows where this line of questioning is going. The protest is rather without teeth when it comes, too sapped of energy for it, but there's some genuine teenage petulance in there.]
I ain't some little kid, y'know. I should've been able to handle it. Not like this is my first time seein' one.
Corpses are traumatizing for anyone to have to deal with. Age really has very little to do with it. Experience... does help. Depending.
[ Kim sighs, leaning back in his chair. He has never divulged what he does to Aragaki -- not that it's a secret in the least. It just hasn't come up. And frankly, it distresses him to be confronted with someone underneath the impression that having an emotional reaction to a corpse, a corpse of a person he had known, is a sign of weakness. Kim folds his hands in his lap, neat and proper. ] I've worked with my fair share of dead bodies. In the morgue. Even working with them day in and day out, you'll still see some that... linger. It is not a sign of weakness or immaturity to have difficulties with it. It is a sign of humanity. I worried more about my colleagues who were wholly unaffected than those that were.
[Someone with Kim's profiling background can likely catch the sudden tension in his hands around the cup, the kind of deliberate calmness to the set of his jaw and shoulders that suggests it is not quite that he doesn't want to talk about it so much as that he doesn't want the other man to realize there is anything specific to talk about in the first place.
He rolls a shoulder, false casual.]
I mean...you know how it is, yeah? Especially in the sketchy parts of town. Criminals, junkies, homeless people who couldn't take the cold overnight. You see that kinda shit all the time. No good gettin' broken up 'bout each one, it'd be impossible to function.
Even in a place like Revachol, it's not that common to simply see corpses lying around, [ Kim says carefully, his narrowed eyes betraying the fact that he sees right through the kid. So he's involved in something dangerous. No surprise there. Gang activity? Probably, Kim thinks. This is why he hated working in juvie so much. He has nothing in common with kids. He couldn't even talk to them when they were kids. But it makes it that much harder to try to sus them out, to figure out what the hell to do with them when they've already been so deeply entrenched in a life of addiction and violence, cops like Kim left to rob them of what structure they have before leaving them out to dry. If they were from the same place, it's more than likely that Kim could have ruined Shinji's life under the guise of saving it. He's certainly done it before.
He prefers working with corpses, at the end of the day. Then he doesn't have to worry about them anymore. He waves a dismissive hand. ] Like I said. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But even running into a corpse is far different than having to bury it. [ He clicks his tongue, shakes his head.
Moving on. ]
Anyway. It's done with now. Now all that's left is to move on. At least while we wait to see what happens next. You should stay with someone tonight, just in case.
[It's strange, how Kitsuragi can manage to see through him and still only leave the door ajar for him to step through or ignore as he pleases. He's so used to Aki chasing him aggressively, trying to drag him through that door, and the more Kitsuragi doesn't do it, the more he finds himself easing his guard around the older man.
...Even so. Stay with "someone" implies not him, and the way Shinjiro hears it, the fact that the man is bringing the matter up suggests that he is coming close to overstaying his welcome. Given that, the last thing he's willing to do is admit he doesn't have anyone else he could ask to stay with; Kitsuragi letting him stay the night out of anything like pity would be much too mortifying.]
Nah, I'm good. Just needed a minute.
[He quickly finishes his tea and abruptly stands, making for the kitchen to rinse out his mug.]
[ It's not a huge surprise, that that's enough to scare Aragaki off. He hadn't even wanted to be here in the first place. It was just the only safe place he could think of, Kim realizes with a pang of -- something. Guilt, perhaps, for not being sufficient at the task of comforting a young man who had just witnessed a brutal murder. Remorse that of all the kind people here, Aragaki had decided to latch onto him. And a little confusion, too; they hadn't done all that much together.
Aragaki has nowhere else to go. That much is clear. Kim is not a man that enjoys putting himself out for other people. It does not come naturally to him. He is intensely internal, intensely private; his space is his own, whether it be physical or emotional, and he guards it ferociously. To allow another person to stay here for anything other than a crisis goes against his nature. But so does sending Aragaki back out into the cold unfeeling night, not even the sussuration of crickets or quiet chirps from the street cats present to accompany him back home.
He will offer once, and only once. He does not chase people down. But he will hold the door open, just a crack. ]
You're welcome. [ He pauses. ] I don't say this only out of concern for your mental well-being. You were, technically speaking, an accessory to a premeditated crime. We have already seen people be punished for less. The fellow who had woken up handcuffed, for example. It may be wise to have someone with you in case something similar happens, if not only to see if someone comes in.
[ He gets up and paces over to the kitchenette, putting his own mug in the sink. He shrugs. ]
[An accessory to a crime. There's something about that which feels so desperately ironic he almost wants to laugh. Waking up handcuffed would be more punishment than he's ever received for his role in things, and some part of him almost hopes for it. The offer, on the other hand, catches him off guard. Not because he's surprised Kitsuragi would be willing to offer, exactly; he knew if he admitted he has nowhere to go, it'd come. But he hadn't expected the older man to catch on quite so easily. Maybe he should've lied.
Now that the offer's on the table, though, he's -- conflicted. There's a young, wounded part of him that wants to accept the safety and comfort of not being alone with only the violence behind his eyelids, of having someone there that cares but doesn't pry. It's drowned out by the much larger part of him that says he doesn't deserve it. And besides, it's clear enough that Kitsuragi would have rather he gone elsewhere, and it's only being offered to him out of a sense of obligation. Shinjiro isn't offended by that; Kitsuragi is a good man. Plenty of others would never have invited him inside in the first place.
He sets the mug in its proper place in the dish rack to buy himself another moment to think. Eventually, he turns back to the older man, and asks:]
...Is that something you'd wanna know? If someone might come in?
[He's genuinely not looking for an excuse to stay, yet the point the older man had raised was an interesting one. He doesn't care what might happen to him, but possibly learning something about the way this town works might be worth the inconvenience of putting him up. He can be gone first thing in the morning, if it doesn't happen.]
[ It's a justification for them both. Kim would never invite someone to stay with him simply because he's worried about their mental state. That sort of thing erodes at boundaries he has carefully constructed, for his own safety and for the safety of those around him -- not that he has any dangerous enemies, or anything as outlandish as what you'd find in one of those pulpy noir novels, but because Kim himself is not equipped for caring for another person long-term. He's too cold, tires of others' company too easily, fails to share anything about himself; it's nothing he hasn't heard from his ex-partners, sparse as they may be. So, no. He is not eager to set a precedent.
Likewise, he can see that Aragaki is reluctant to stay for his own personal welfare. He's a cagey kid, probably having been let down and abused in the past if Kim could guess at it, and isn't particularly eager to have his life meddled with by a well-meaning adult. Practically a stranger. Even if it is clearly the best plan for him, even if nobody should be alone after witnessing such a frightful sight.
Then it benefits them both. And Kim isn't necessarily lying, either. There is the distinct possibility that someone will come to punish Shinji for his assumed crimes, and that he should have someone here to watch his back if they can catch the person in the act or, if not, to have someone around to help him navigate around if he gets cuffed.
Kim nods. ]
Of course I would. The more we know about this place and its laws, the better. And I don't relish the idea of you waking in handcuffs alone. It's not an appropriate way to conduct law enforcement. [ Kim sets his mug down in the sink and turns, leaning against his small fridge. ] If that sounds reasonable to you as well, you can stay. Just don't expect too much hospitality. I'm not used to having guests.
[He can't quite resist a faint scoff at the mention of an appropriate way to conduct law enforcement; his experience hasn't given him a particularly great amount of faith in the profession. He never did learn exactly how the Kirijou Group covered up what happened to Amada's mother, whether they actually came up with another corpse to pin as the "drunk driver", or if they simply bribed the cops not to go digging into the story that was provided, but none of the possibilities are encouraging. The state of things with less supernatural affairs hasn't been much better, either.
All of that is hardly relevant in a place where the starting condition has been a mass kidnapping, though, and Shinjiro lets the moment pass without further reaction. It's not like the point is an important one under the circumstances, anyway. He rolls a shoulder, a bit more casual of a gesture than he really feels.]
...S'fine. Ain't like I'm used to bein' one.
[This might actually be the first time, now that he thinks about it? Awkward.]
I can crash on your couch, if you got one. No need to worry about blankets or anything. And I'll be out by morning.
[He almost wants to offer to make breakfast, in something like recompense for being allowed to stay, but it's too personal of a thing. Sharing a meal together would be more like something friends would do, and that's not what they are.]
All right. The couch it is. Make yourself comfortable -- it isn't as though I have any personal possessions here. User the shower if you like.
[ He's cagier about his real home. Every item on every shelf says something different about him, something deeply personal, interests he has hidden away, secret loves he harbours, evidence of a life colourfully lived. Though the apartment he's living in now is objectively much nicer, it is devoid of anything that hints that someone with a personality lives here. Even if he had access to such things, he wouldn't use them. It would feel far too much like putting down roots.
And so Aragaki is the unwilling spectator of the rest of Kim's evening; he rustles himself together some shabby dinner (and offers Aragaki a plate, though doesn't argue if he doesn't want it), done without any real ineptitude but also without any skill, has a smoke, and mulls over some crosswords at the kitchen table before bed. Most people would consider this routine to be rather sad, the sort of thing relegated to a dreary montage in a film attempting to drive home just how lonely a bachelor is before he finds the girl of his dreams, but the entire effect of it all is rather cozy. This is a man who has settled enough in his life to know what he likes and what he doesn't, and what he likes is a good crossword every now and then.
Once he washes up and heads to bed, he stops in the doorway. ]
Let me know if you need anything. If you hear anything, feel anything. I don't expect anything terribly harsh, but I don't know what to expect at all. Hopefully you can get some sleep despite it all.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-07-26 10:45 am (UTC)He does briefly wonder at what Kitsuragi means about being "very familiar" with these kind of attacks, yet it seems so impossible to picture this man in a similar state that his mind simply supplies that perhaps the older man finds himself in a position of dealing with messed up people like this often.]
...Just for a bit, alright?
[Maybe if he doesn't look at Kitsuragi as he scuttles in through the held-open door he can feel less embarrassed about it? He's certainly giving it the old college try, anyway, staring doggedly at his worn old shoes alone as he makes his way in and follows the detective to his apartment.]
no subject
Date: 2023-07-31 10:17 pm (UTC)Sit. I'll be right back.
[ Kim retreats into the nook of a kitchen, placing a hand over the kettle sitting on his stovetop, nodding in satisfaction as he realizes it's still warm from the tea he'd been drinking before he'd set out into the City. He lets it heat back up as he rifles through his cupboard for this and that. He's never been the best at dealing with others' panic attacks, admittedly, but you don't persevere in his line of work for as long as he has without having to deal with them time and time again. A drink, something to eat, a warm blanket, a gentle voice: without the same gift for people as some of his peers, it's all he is able to provide. It's generally the least that he can provide, considering he leaves people behind, bereft of what the world had looked like before tragedy, never to look back.
When he re-emerges from the kitchen, it's with a hot cup of tea - decaf, some sort of herbal tea he'd picked up from the store - and a packet of saltines and a packaged chocolate bar. Heat, sugar, calories. That's the cure. ]
Here. You don't have to eat, but you should at least drink.
[ It'll calm the kid down, having to slowly sip at the hot drink, focusing on the warmth underneath his fingers instead of the storm inside his head. He refilled his own cup, more so that he'd have something to hold as well than anything else, and sits directly across from Aragaki, legs crossed. He gives the kid some time to recover, content for the moment to sit in silence.
He'll ask what happened soon -- and still, the question is heavy in the air, his own curiosity a given. But he doesn't want to send him spiraling down again. He needs a second to breathe. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-07-31 11:30 pm (UTC)So when Kitsuragi comes back with the hot tea, Shinjiro doesn't actually bother with any further protest, token or otherwise, warming his hands and face against the mug and the faint steam emerging from it. The chocolate bar is left to the side for the moment, though. He's not sure his hands are steady enough to open it, and struggling with that would certainly send him over the threshold of embarrassment he's able to tolerate about his current state.
He's content with the silence, though; there's something almost comforting in it, but the weight of being observed catches up with him eventually. He doesn't move to explain himself, exactly, but he take a moment to say something he couldn't earlier, when he was first coming down from the panic:]
...Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2023-08-06 09:40 am (UTC)Few people actually find Kim reassuring. There are those who respond better to a more empathetic, active approach, those who wish to be coddled and soothed, those who need to hear gentle platitudes, those who need to be told that everything is going to be all right. Kim can't provide any of those things. He never could. But what he can provide is a soft place to fall; a quiet voice, a warm home, a steady, nonjudgmental stare.
Or a judgmental one, depending on the circumstances, but he whips that one out more on a professional basis than a personal one. He takes a sip of his own tea, expression as mild as it ever is, as though Aragaki had come here for a regular visit instead of practically collapsing outside of his temporary abode. ]
I won't make you talk about whatever that was, [ he says, steady as he ever is. ] Some things are private.
[ He knows that better than most. He glances out the window, the streetlight reflecting off of the thick lens of his glasses. ] But if you want to tell me what that was all about, I'll listen.
oh man i love that icon
Date: 2023-08-06 10:57 am (UTC)He still hesitates, even so, too used to simply hunkering down and bearing his struggles in silence on his own, but after a long moment, he sets the mug back down, staring into it instead of looking up at the older man.]
...I went to the thing, from that one network post. The fight. Brought up some old shit, I guess.
[The most downplayed possible way to phrase it, but it's a mark of the trust Kim has gained that Shinjiro got out anything at all, really.]
hehehe TY!!!
Date: 2023-08-10 08:36 am (UTC)He really wishes he had learned how to use a radiocomputer. He'd seen the post, discarded it as thoughtless posturing that he didn't have the patience to learn how to respond to, and had promptly forgotten about it. After all, what sort of madman would actually volunteer to kill or be killed for the sake of a mystery?
He pinches at the bridge of his nose. ]
I'm still not great at using this thing, [ he says, gesturing to his communicator, screen side down on the coffee table. ] I didn't realize they actually did it. [ Hold up. ] Wait, why did you go? Were you -- involved in all that?
[ If Shinji came here straight after killing a woman, that's a different story. Not that he knows what to do with it if he did. It was clearly a consensual killing. But still. ]
no subject
Date: 2023-08-10 09:32 am (UTC)I didn't kill her!
[His face grows a little hot thereafter, not solely because of the tea. He didn't help her either, his mind helpfully supplies. He didn't interfere. He stood there and watched her die as she asked and then went and put her corpse to rest in the gardens because it felt like the least cowardly way to react to knowing what she was going to do.
A sudden flash of her crushed-in skull overlays the apartment, there and then gone. He doesn't quite descend back into the panic, but there's a singular moment, a violent twitch of his fingers against the cup as his eyes go elsewhere, and then he's back.]
...It was just, if you're gonna pull a stupid stunt like that, might as well -- at least have people who can back up that it happened, or there's--no proof. Whole thing's pointless.
[Another twitch. A bit of the liquid sloshes out, this time, and Shinjiro sets the cup down at last, almost reluctantly.]
Besides, she couldn't just... leave her body layin' out there.
[One doesn't really need to be a detective to catch onto exactly what Shinjiro's implying about his particular role in the whole affair, but he can't quite bring himself to verbalize it, either. Especially since his focus seems to have diverted toward regulating his breathing, which has gone just a touch shallow again.]
no subject
Date: 2023-08-17 12:08 am (UTC)That's a reaction. Nobody wants to be accused of murdering a woman in cold blood. That's fair enough. And what Kim said could be construed as accusing Shinji of being a killer. That's fair enough too. Still, it's the biggest outburst he's seen from the kid, and it doesn't feel as though it's coming out of nowhere. Past false accusations? Maybe. He's a street rat, that much has become obvious. He's probably used to being scapegoated for this and that. Kim takes a sip of his tea, giving Aragaki a long, measuring look, predominantly because he doesn't know what the hell to say to any of that.
To involve a kid in this grisly affair, to go through with it no matter who's watching... he can't approve of that. But vocalizing any of that won't get him anywhere except for surly defensiveness and a speedy exit. This is the sort of thing that requires tact. He sets the mug down and sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. ]
You should have never been put into that position, [ he says frankly. ] I hope you know that. I would never condone this happening in the first place, but being that it did, they could have at least brought in someone accustomed to dealing with the aftermath to deal with it.
Was there anyone else with you, besides the victim and the perpetrator? Or did you have to deal with the body alone?
no subject
Date: 2023-08-17 10:49 am (UTC)[Kim tries to sidestep around any potential defensiveness on Shinjiro's part, but there's still a note of it in his response, almost too quick. It doesn't come with immediate retreat, at least; Shinjiro doesn't seem angry about it as much as he seems lost -- he hadn't anticipated it would affect him like this, with a faint tremor in the line of his shoulders even now. He hadn't been thrilled with the idea, of course, but he'd assumed it would be something he could handle. It's not as though Amada's mother is the only dead body he's ever seen in his life; dead junkies, homeless people, and criminals weren't exactly uncommon, in the sketchier parts of Iwatodai.
Then again, he hadn't been prepared to see her get her skull crushed in like that, either. He'd expected something clean, easy like a stabbing or a bullet, and the visceral horror waits for him right behind his eyelids, as though etched there by fire.]
But yeah, there were others. Bunch of people wanted to see the proof, I guess.
[For his own part, he just didn't want to be a coward and look away, knowing it was happening.]
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Date: 2023-08-21 02:05 am (UTC)And from what he knows of the young woman who died, her crime isn't malice. It's neglect. But it's folly nonetheless. If she doesn't return, she is left in the quiet peace of death, while Shinji trembled upon his doortstep, unable to keep himself together. Kim sighs, long and slow. He's not going to get anywhere pursuing that avenue of questioning.
(Not questioning. Comfort. For god's sake, Kitsuragi, you're not a cop here.) ]
And did the others assist you in dealing with the body? Did they... [ He tries to search for words. If there were others there, then how did Shinji wind up here? Did nobody think to check on him? ] Did you leave right after it was taken care of?
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Date: 2023-08-21 11:49 am (UTC)[A couple others had offered assistance, and when it was done, he immediately ran off on his own. It's not as though he has a home here, for people to look him up. What little presence he's had on the network has largely been his insistence that he doesn't feel inclined toward solving the mysteries of this place. Reaching out to someone is difficult when their hand isn't anywhere in sight, purposely hidden away.
On some subconscious level, that's probably why he came here. Nobody would have thought to check on him because he doesn't really know anyone, but Kitsuragi would care if he happened to come out and see him.
At the same time, Shinjiro feels like he knows where this line of questioning is going. The protest is rather without teeth when it comes, too sapped of energy for it, but there's some genuine teenage petulance in there.]
I ain't some little kid, y'know. I should've been able to handle it. Not like this is my first time seein' one.
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Date: 2023-08-25 12:57 am (UTC)[ Kim sighs, leaning back in his chair. He has never divulged what he does to Aragaki -- not that it's a secret in the least. It just hasn't come up. And frankly, it distresses him to be confronted with someone underneath the impression that having an emotional reaction to a corpse, a corpse of a person he had known, is a sign of weakness. Kim folds his hands in his lap, neat and proper. ] I've worked with my fair share of dead bodies. In the morgue. Even working with them day in and day out, you'll still see some that... linger. It is not a sign of weakness or immaturity to have difficulties with it. It is a sign of humanity. I worried more about my colleagues who were wholly unaffected than those that were.
...your previous experiences. What were they?
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Date: 2023-08-25 01:26 am (UTC)He rolls a shoulder, false casual.]
I mean...you know how it is, yeah? Especially in the sketchy parts of town. Criminals, junkies, homeless people who couldn't take the cold overnight. You see that kinda shit all the time. No good gettin' broken up 'bout each one, it'd be impossible to function.
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Date: 2023-08-30 01:03 am (UTC)He prefers working with corpses, at the end of the day. Then he doesn't have to worry about them anymore. He waves a dismissive hand. ] Like I said. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But even running into a corpse is far different than having to bury it. [ He clicks his tongue, shakes his head.
Moving on. ]
Anyway. It's done with now. Now all that's left is to move on. At least while we wait to see what happens next. You should stay with someone tonight, just in case.
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Date: 2023-08-30 10:47 am (UTC)...Even so. Stay with "someone" implies not him, and the way Shinjiro hears it, the fact that the man is bringing the matter up suggests that he is coming close to overstaying his welcome. Given that, the last thing he's willing to do is admit he doesn't have anyone else he could ask to stay with; Kitsuragi letting him stay the night out of anything like pity would be much too mortifying.]
Nah, I'm good. Just needed a minute.
[He quickly finishes his tea and abruptly stands, making for the kitchen to rinse out his mug.]
Thanks for the tea.
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Date: 2023-08-31 02:21 am (UTC)Aragaki has nowhere else to go. That much is clear. Kim is not a man that enjoys putting himself out for other people. It does not come naturally to him. He is intensely internal, intensely private; his space is his own, whether it be physical or emotional, and he guards it ferociously. To allow another person to stay here for anything other than a crisis goes against his nature. But so does sending Aragaki back out into the cold unfeeling night, not even the sussuration of crickets or quiet chirps from the street cats present to accompany him back home.
He will offer once, and only once. He does not chase people down. But he will hold the door open, just a crack. ]
You're welcome. [ He pauses. ] I don't say this only out of concern for your mental well-being. You were, technically speaking, an accessory to a premeditated crime. We have already seen people be punished for less. The fellow who had woken up handcuffed, for example. It may be wise to have someone with you in case something similar happens, if not only to see if someone comes in.
[ He gets up and paces over to the kitchenette, putting his own mug in the sink. He shrugs. ]
You can stay for the night. But it's up to you.
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Date: 2023-08-31 10:53 pm (UTC)Now that the offer's on the table, though, he's -- conflicted. There's a young, wounded part of him that wants to accept the safety and comfort of not being alone with only the violence behind his eyelids, of having someone there that cares but doesn't pry. It's drowned out by the much larger part of him that says he doesn't deserve it. And besides, it's clear enough that Kitsuragi would have rather he gone elsewhere, and it's only being offered to him out of a sense of obligation. Shinjiro isn't offended by that; Kitsuragi is a good man. Plenty of others would never have invited him inside in the first place.
He sets the mug in its proper place in the dish rack to buy himself another moment to think. Eventually, he turns back to the older man, and asks:]
...Is that something you'd wanna know? If someone might come in?
[He's genuinely not looking for an excuse to stay, yet the point the older man had raised was an interesting one. He doesn't care what might happen to him, but possibly learning something about the way this town works might be worth the inconvenience of putting him up. He can be gone first thing in the morning, if it doesn't happen.]
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Date: 2023-09-02 12:55 am (UTC)Likewise, he can see that Aragaki is reluctant to stay for his own personal welfare. He's a cagey kid, probably having been let down and abused in the past if Kim could guess at it, and isn't particularly eager to have his life meddled with by a well-meaning adult. Practically a stranger. Even if it is clearly the best plan for him, even if nobody should be alone after witnessing such a frightful sight.
Then it benefits them both. And Kim isn't necessarily lying, either. There is the distinct possibility that someone will come to punish Shinji for his assumed crimes, and that he should have someone here to watch his back if they can catch the person in the act or, if not, to have someone around to help him navigate around if he gets cuffed.
Kim nods. ]
Of course I would. The more we know about this place and its laws, the better. And I don't relish the idea of you waking in handcuffs alone. It's not an appropriate way to conduct law enforcement. [ Kim sets his mug down in the sink and turns, leaning against his small fridge. ] If that sounds reasonable to you as well, you can stay. Just don't expect too much hospitality. I'm not used to having guests.
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Date: 2023-09-02 02:41 am (UTC)All of that is hardly relevant in a place where the starting condition has been a mass kidnapping, though, and Shinjiro lets the moment pass without further reaction. It's not like the point is an important one under the circumstances, anyway. He rolls a shoulder, a bit more casual of a gesture than he really feels.]
...S'fine. Ain't like I'm used to bein' one.
[This might actually be the first time, now that he thinks about it? Awkward.]
I can crash on your couch, if you got one. No need to worry about blankets or anything. And I'll be out by morning.
[He almost wants to offer to make breakfast, in something like recompense for being allowed to stay, but it's too personal of a thing. Sharing a meal together would be more like something friends would do, and that's not what they are.]
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Date: 2023-09-07 09:50 am (UTC)[ He's cagier about his real home. Every item on every shelf says something different about him, something deeply personal, interests he has hidden away, secret loves he harbours, evidence of a life colourfully lived. Though the apartment he's living in now is objectively much nicer, it is devoid of anything that hints that someone with a personality lives here. Even if he had access to such things, he wouldn't use them. It would feel far too much like putting down roots.
And so Aragaki is the unwilling spectator of the rest of Kim's evening; he rustles himself together some shabby dinner (and offers Aragaki a plate, though doesn't argue if he doesn't want it), done without any real ineptitude but also without any skill, has a smoke, and mulls over some crosswords at the kitchen table before bed. Most people would consider this routine to be rather sad, the sort of thing relegated to a dreary montage in a film attempting to drive home just how lonely a bachelor is before he finds the girl of his dreams, but the entire effect of it all is rather cozy. This is a man who has settled enough in his life to know what he likes and what he doesn't, and what he likes is a good crossword every now and then.
Once he washes up and heads to bed, he stops in the doorway. ]
Let me know if you need anything. If you hear anything, feel anything. I don't expect anything terribly harsh, but I don't know what to expect at all. Hopefully you can get some sleep despite it all.