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Realistic or Modern Killer's Court | Private

LONELYRAIN

not so lonely
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Koto Morioka
"Koto Morioka, suspected murderer of Mifumi Morioka, Watarou Morioka, Yuuki Morioka, Iwane Sayoinji, Akai Sayoinji, Sakura Sayoinji, Iho Sayoinji, . Crimes include arson of the Morioka family home as well as the murder of victim Sakura Sayoinji's parents and siblings. You have been chosen for rehabilitation."

He stared blankly at the screen before him, a message that had been scrolling up and down a pastel blue background with a cute mascot character, a plump white rabbit jumping up and down behind the bold lettering that displayed his crimes in full. A curved smile crossed his face as he chuckled, rolling over upon his side as he took a closer look at the ridiculously childish screen, the mat that he had been rather roughly shoved upon being what had served as his bed for three days. Three days he had spent locked in total darkness in a facility that he had no clue was located and had been denied access to food or water while he had been held in such a dark room. He was hungry, his head was pounding; but for some reason he couldn't stop laughing.

Koto had laughed, and laughed for three days. His throat was raw from the perpetual giggles, his eyes burning from lack of sleep, but he couldn't help it. Am I being left here to die? Abandoned again? Over and over and over... A howl of laughter once more left him as his hands struggled against the secure cuffs preventing him from freely grabbing anything in the inky dark. As much as his voice strained from the sheer amount of laughter, it just truly tickled him pink. This whole situation was so absurd that he couldn't wrap his frazzled mind around it. All he could prominently get through his mind was how good it felt to squish those little insects... It felt the same as when he had bashed open their skulls with a bat.

His voice croaked in the darkness, "Squish... squish~ hahah~" Could his laughter even be heard? Did it truly matter? No, nothing did matter even if he was rolling about on this pathetic mat, rolling about in his own filth. No one had come in since they had thrown him in there, so he couldn't very well move about on his own. Even through the discomfort, Koto had remained giggling, his mind having been completely scattered as his raw throat could hardly begin to make any sounds that were distinguishably human. In the midst of his giggling stupor, a distinct click had reached his ears a door abruptly opened, bringing piercing light into the room and causing his eyes to close, flinching at the surge of light against dilated pupils. Rough hands had gripped a hold of his arms, hoisting him upward upon his feet as he croaked, "Oh... It certainly took you long enough. Am I to be rehabilitated now? Ha...ha- Eugh!" A punch connected with his gut, causing him to bend over and gag, his empty stomach twisting as he was then dragged out of the dark room into an empty hall that he had no clue where he was located. Everything that met his eyes was a blinding white, even the men who were currently dragging his filthy body through the white hallway were also clothed in obnoxiously white garments. The only thing that broke through the pure white hallway that he could see was a logo of some company. Omega Corp..?

It was not long before he found himself within a small room, although this room was just as blindingly white as the hallway. A separate door could be seen across from he one he was being dragged into had caught his attention, not only that but the lonely table that had been placed dead center in the room with two chairs that faced one another had caught his attention more so, primarily because he was being dragged to it. With a grunt, the male found himself being unceremoniously dumped on the chair, his damp clothing sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he attempted to roll his shoulders to allievate the soreness of being dragged by his arms.

"I don't... suppose you could have been gentle? I'm a bit fragile still~" There was no response from the men who had dragged him there, prompting Koto to pucker his lips in a kissing motion at the stone-faced men. However, his childish taunt went unremarked as the men clad in pure white had retreated to the door whence they had come, pushing a distinct red button, and then a subsequent solid click as the door slid close. Once again he was alone. He leaned his head back as he stared up at the white ceiling, mumbling under his breath, "Alone, alone, alone, alone... how many times?" He remained in this rather uncomfortable position, repeating such words over and over again until a sound of a click reached his ears and a voice suddenly boomed into the room, a flighty feminine voice, oddly cheerful.

"Contestant Koto Morioka, it's time to meet your sponsor!"

Huh? Sponsor? The boy raised his head and looked at the door opposite of where he sat, his eyes locking on the blindly white door suddenly opening and revealing a very bewildered and almost frightened looking older woman, perhaps by a few years at most. Oh? Shifting about in his seat impatiently, the young man strained against his restraints, a broad grin playing across his lips as gray eyes sparkled in anticipation. Could he... could he make her go "squish" too? For a moment, Koto's fragmented mind struggled to imagine the woman across from him in a state of disarray like that of his victims. Hah, how pretty. He strained against the restraints once more, impatience settling within him as the sound of the cuffs clinked and clanked in the eerily silent room. This was frustrating.
 
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Ohta Emao
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Money makes the world go around, and a lack of money can slam on the brakes real fucking fast. True to her name, Emao was currently seeing the end of the road- dove and made up of concrete squares laid meticulously to a grid- and the light was close. Quite literally glaring her straight in the face as overhead LEDs buzzed a low drone in her ears. The end of the road was looking suspiciously similar to an interrogation room, it even had a white table and a tinted window and whatnot. All it needed now was a pair of handcuffs and she was primed for jail.

Except she wasn’t going to jail and the allegories for the afterlife were immaterial as freshly processed air was circulating into her system this very second. Emao drew a long, big breath- one that was riddled with anxious twitches of interlinked fingers and smile. The polite gesture strained across her features until it appeared ready to snap. Why was it on the verge of snapping, you ask? Because she had been sitting in this room, waiting for around 1 hour for, well, anything to happen.

THIS WAS A FUCKING SHAM. Well, of course it was a sham. This is why you don’t accept business cards from strangers on the street that claim they’ll solve all of your financial troubles, Emao. She shifted where she sat upon the plastic chair, extremities numb and starting to experience pins and needles at the slightest agitation of muscles. This place needed HR more than her last workplace. Actually, give them the same HR that had witnessed her get fired for raising a complaint about harassment.

The brunette thought that she would finally go either a) blind or b) fall asleep by the time when it happened. The static of a speaker cut the air and tuned into a intelligible voice.

“Is your full legal name Ohta Emao?“

“Yes.” Emao blinked and looked for the source of the sound to no avail. She didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to conclude that, whoever was speaking, was probably also watching her through the tinted window.

“Ohta Emao, you have agreed to participate in a program as a sponsor in exchange for monetary compensation- is that correct?” The invisible speakers blared again.

There wasn’t much else she could say but: “Yes”. She didn’t even know what the role of a sponsor entailed, but the paper already had her name on it. The contract had probably listed the details, but she was in design and marketing- not business. The door gave off a click all of a sudden and two tall men emerged as it opened. Their attire matched the stark hospital vibes that this place was now emitting, and second thoughts began to wheedle into the back of her mind as she followed them. Emao was squeezed in the middle of the two, head only nudging the height of their chests at her stature of 5’1 ft. She clasped her hands in front of her and doubled down on her smile. It couldn’t possibly be that bad, could it?

-The door to the second interrogation room slid shut and clicked ominously behind her. On the other side of the table was a young man- perhaps even a boy- seated. His feral grin matched the rattling handcuffs, picturing an animal trying to break free, and his overall sunken and pallid countenance made him out as a ghost incarnate.

Emao whipped around for the door again. Ahahaha…excuse me Sir, I think I left something in the other room-” Her shrill voice made a lap around the room. Deafening silence met her at the finish line of the door. She reluctantly turned back around.

Emao was a normal woman with nothing particular going for her. Amongst those things were work, a social life, a driver’s license, height and now this. She stood, and then she stood some more. Her feet didn’t budge from their spot by the door and neither did her smile. She shouldn’t have signed the contract- she shouldn't have signed the contract- she shouldn't have-

She felt as though her glasses would fog up with the amount that she sweated.
 
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First impressions were everything, something that his parents made sure that he understood. The shrill voice of the woman who had been thrust into the room before him was giving him the stark impression of that of a victim; a fragility to the nervous countenance of the individual who was to be his sponsor. It all screamed of weakness, and majority of him wanted to reach out and crush her. From the invisible barrier that now separated himself from the woman standing on the other end of the white room, not moving an inch toward him and prevented from escaping the blindly white room even if she wanted to. But, something was pissing him off about this situation, his gray eyes slowly looking over the smiling woman standing immobile as far away from him as possible.

Ah, her smile. That was pissing him off more than anything else.

Even as she was perspiring, even as she was standing so still like that of petrified prey, that annoying smile didn't seem to waver which resulted in the broad grin upon Koto's face evaporating, the lips of the young man unwinding from the crazed grin and now settled on silent glowering. Why? Why was she smiling at him like that? Prickles of unease flared in goosebumps underneath his damp, bloodied clothes as the teen had stopped struggling against the cuffs biting into his wrists, instead opting for allowing his arms to slacken as he leaned back in his chair, his head tilting back as he instead opted for looking at the blinding lights above him, disappointment as clear as day in the body that now seemed to lose interest in the pathetic excuse for a woman across from him, "..Fuck, at least give me someone less boring!" The words were not whispered, spoken quite loudly in the empty room, echoing against the plain white walls and and equally blinding white flooring.

Well, that certainly was rude. But, did Koto care. No, instead the boy made quite the effort of yawning, his teeth coming together in a harsh clack as he shuffled about a bit in his chair, another complaint flying free to fill the silence, "Three days and this is what I get? Talk about shit luck... Hey, old woman!" His head had jerked up, gray eyes fixated upon the poor soul across from him as one of his legs shot out, kicking the leg of the chair across from him, the chair itself tipping over underneath the brutal strength as it slid and clattered to the floor, "Sit away from me, yeah?" A cold smile crossed his face as he spoke in an eerie bright tone, "Looking at you makes me feel sick~!"

Even more rude. Again, did Koto care? No, it didn't seem like he did. Instead mere seconds after the rude outburst, cheerful music began to play, similar to that of children's show as an odd slot had opened up the table revealing a two-sided monitor, displaying yet another pastel blue background and in cheery, bubbled text with bright pink letters it displayed: Welcome to the Killer's Court!


"Welcome to the Killer's Court! This is your introduction to an opportunity of a lifetime! It is here that we rehabilitate criminals to be reintroduced to society by performing a game that will occur over the course of several weeks in seasons!"

The flighty, cheerful voice again blared obnoxiously loud from some hidden speaker in the room, a sheer contrast from the ominous smile that Koto was now giving Emao across from him, as if this was all fun and games for the teen who didn't seem to be flinching or reacting at all to the cheerful music. Certainly unnerving, and definitely not helping calm any frayed nerves.

"These games are death matches! Chosen contestants will fight till the death against fair matchups. If your contestant wins, per each week you will receive ¥53, 172, 000 (approx. $500,000)! However, if your contestant loses, you too will be eliminated from the Killer's Court. After all, your contestant is your lifeline to fortune, prosperity and your contestant's completed rehabilitation!"

The blue monitors began to shift, once again showing the cute rabbit character pointing to a picture of Koto, a picture taken from when he was still in school. The face that peered back contrasted the wild appearance of the young man that currently was sitting in blood-stained, filthy, foul-smelling clothes. From the uniform it appeared to be a prestigious school, his hair slicked back careful and neat: perfect, a mild-mannered smile upon an equally gentle expression. A handsome boy indeed, nothing like that insane maniac that he had been reduced to. On this screen, it fully displayed his crimes and age, and his standing within the Killer's Court of which was currently a 0. The cheery voice droned on, truly grating if one would pay attention to it.

"Sponsor Ohta Emao, here is your contestant of which you are to assist on his road to rehabilitation.

Morioka Koto; age eighteen. Arrested for the murders of both his family and his ex-girlfriend along with her family. Charged with arson for burning down his family's home after the murders were completed.
First Degree Manslaughter
Arson."

At this point, Koto had leaned back as much as he could in his chair, humming as he didn't seem very much interested with what was displaying on the screen anymore, but he did seem to twitch involuntarily at the mention of his ex-girlfriend as the voice had so cheerily spoken such words. A smile twisted upon his face as the cheerful voice piped up, "As a sponsor, you are to shelter and care for your contestant during this season of the Killer's Court. You will be given proper supplies and living spaces while you are still in the running for the matches! More details will come readily available for you soon!"

With that, a distinct clicking sound had filled the air as the screens had shut off and retreated back into the table, closing themselves off from view and leaving a rather suddenly amused Koto who had now stopped leaning in his chair as he croaked, his voice straining and raspy from laughing far too much earlier, "So that is what they meant by 'rehabilitation'? What a joke." His gray eyes met his supposed sponsor, now grinning from ear to ear at her as he said just as cheerfully as the voice that had come from the monitor, "Well, whatever. I'm Morioka Koto, I hope that we'll get along well~ not like we have much of a choice!" He broke down into wheezing snickers, leaning forward until his chin rested on the table before him, scooting his chair backward upon the floor. This behavior was a sharp contrast from the disgust he had bestowed upon her earlier, now seemingly more interested in chattering to fill the tension that had now settled between the two.

"Hey, hey old woman! How did you get roped into this anyways?" His smile split wider, wicked in the glint in his eyes, "You really are stupid, are you?"
 
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Ohta Emao
Vocab:

Theme:


A smile can go a long way. Like getting a discount when you shop because the old grandma behind the counter thinks you’re cute, or appeasing your superiors so they won’t hand you a stack of assignments. Smiling was supposed to solve all your problems, or at least alleviate them. That was what her grandmother had told her while, ironically, smiling through the smothering of down feathers.

-White and slowly creeping up on her frame that only shrank in the hospital bed. A bit more sheets and pillows and a tad less Iori after every visit.

Smiling hadn’t helped her back then and smiling wasn’t helping Emao now. It, in fact, made it feel all the more jarring when a barrage of insults was suddenly hurled at her. The chair and seat that she hadn’t taken were ripped away from her with a kick and she winced when it clattered onto the floor. Her dignity and rationality appeared to have gone along with it.

"These games are death matches! Chosen contestants will fight till the death against fair matchups. If your contestant wins, per each week you will receive ¥53, 172, 000 (approx. $500,000)! However, if your contestant loses, you too will be eliminated from the Killer's Court. After all, your contestant is your lifeline to fortune, prosperity and your contestant's completed rehabilitation!"
…..
"Sponsor Ohta Emao, here is your contestant of which you are to assist on his road to rehabilitation.
Morioka Koto; age eighteen. Arrested for the murders of both his family and his ex-girlfriend along with her family. Charged with arson for burning down his family's home after the murders were completed.
First Degree Manslaughter
Arson."


All she could muster up was:

“You’re kidding right?” Her voice crackled through the dying sputters of her smile. Maybe he would disappear if she ignored him. “Hey.” The grating speaker voice didn’t respond to her appeals for confirmation that was increasingly sounding like pleas. Nor did the little monitor pop back out with additional information to assuage her growing despair. Emao faced the door and brought her fist down on it.

“Hey let me out,” The boy’s voice buzzed annoyingly in the background. “This isn’t funny you know,” Like flies around overripe fruit. “I’ll pay whatever the cost is for breaching the contract, please just let me out-” A faint ringing took to tone in her ears and the knocks quickened into a pace of raps. BUZZING. The bangs reverberated from cold metal up into her arm and then into pounding chest. BZZZ. “HEY!” The ringing elevated to a shrill cry and blasted away any remaining traces of twisted mouth corners. Jaws set in stone crumbled around dimples; caved in on them in tandem with the white walls of the room that seemed destined to become her tomb.

Buzzing, over peeling skin that revealed sweet flesh underneath. Sticky and oxidizing from white to curdled brown that was redolent of dried blood on knuckles-

"You really are stupid, are you?"

BANG.

“SHUT UP!”
Emao whirled around and snapped her jaws at the boy that was now peering up at her. Gazing, probing, smiling. The rounded and bunched-up features of her face bristled up and then faltered with the passing wave of noise. Dynamic, moving and feeling too much. In its stead seeped a lulling silence into place and emphasized her racing heartbeats. She stammered while she picked up the pieces of her composure. “I-I’m not old. I’m 25.” Twenty-five and out of breath while yelling at a teenager.

The speakers turned back on to real static. Flighty voice bellowed anew, deadpan this time:

“The cost for breaching the contract is your life- Ohta Emao.”

Oh fuck. So it was a tomb after all. “Fuck.” Whatever crumbs she had assembled of her poise were quickly dropped to the floor again as she tugged at her hair. She began to pace, erratically back and forth. “I won’t take being called stupid from a-” Her finger pointed accusingly at the boy as the word hinged in her throat. “From a-a-a-FUCK DID YOU SERIOUSLY DO IT?” The blood-stained clothes hinted as much, but her brain refused to process that.

A rush of dizziness assaulted her vision and she collapsed beside the crumbs in a crouch. “How do I know you won’t kill me too?” Everything seemed to revolve around death right now. Death if she participated and they lost, death if she didn’t participate and death if this maniac snapped and got the urge to kill her. Because snapping was the only reasonable explanation she could conjure up for murdering a bunch of people.

Tiny hands pressed up inside glasses and felt her pounding pulse, or headache, through fingertips. Emao parted her digits and looked up at the boy with her weary brown eyes through the gaps. “Do you even regret it?” Exasperated she looked and exasperated she sounded. She wasn't ready for some death game. She had barely managed to put on her pencil skirt and blouse this morning when she awoke, let alone actually get out of bed.
 
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“SHUT UP!” The demand for silence had made the boy's face freeze in place, like each muscle that was causing him to smile had very suddenly trembled and froze... only for giggling to begin to swell in its place. The shoulders of Koto shook with mirth as eyebrows raised. Oh no, she really was stupid! It was evident in the panic that guided her movements as she begged and plead to a disembodied voice that would not give her the salvation she wanted prior to her anger, the fear the desperation - it was delightful to watch, entertainment for his bored eyes that had previously marked her off to being as interesting as a cardboard box. At least it showed that she could get angry, that she could lash out. This fact accentuated by the obvious sign that she was indeed out of breath, his lips pressing together as a mocking whistle left him in response.

"Careful, old woman, you might just get a heart attack. Don't tell me, oh no! You're senile as well?! Oh pitiful, pitiful you! How sad that you signed up for this! Poor stupid you!" His taunt rang out in the empty room just moments before the previously cheerful voice had in a very deadpan tone had echoed, causing his head to jerk up ever so slightly as if he could possibly see where the the originator of the voice was coming from.
“The cost for breaching the contract is your life- Ohta Emao.”

"Ha... hahahaha!" The laughter burst from his lips as his body slammed back in the chair, rocking back and forth as his eyes crinkled with the utter joy that had overtaken him. In a situation that certainly shouldn't be seen as funny, it simply was tickling the crazed boy pink. The subsequent curses from the poor woman that had signed her life away had made Koto's eyes begin to water. Oh, was she upset that she found herself in this situation? This was such a stupid, stupid, silly woman! It was her own damned fault for being such an idiot! His chest heaved as coughs wracked his body, doubling over as his throat flared with pain from the sheer amount of overuse he'd subjected it to as he swallowed in precious oxygen into his lungs, a line of saliva dripping past cracked skin as he wheezed, "He...hehe... hehe."

Slow was the movements then as Koto straightened up within his seat, his head leaning back and cocking to one side as the prey pointed an accusatory finger at him. Did he do it? Shoulder's shifted about as he straightened against the handcuffs, his gray eyes sliding over the prey's body... too soft, too weak. No muscle, nothing to show of any sort of signs of physical activity. It would be easy to overpower her, easy to crush that pretty little skull of hers in, or bash her head against the table until the white would be stained with bright red. But, if he did that then... I would die too. That seemed like such a waste! Him?! Beautiful Koto? The world would be deprived of his radiant self, and that just seemed like a sin!

Just kidding~! The inner monologue within his scattered mind quieted as he parted his lips, "Why else would I be here? It is called 'Killer's Court', old woman. It's why they have me restrained so I can't make your pretty little head go... squish~!" The chilling sentence was punctuated with a broad grin, rattling about the handcuffs to prove his point as the cold metal kissed his skin, cutting just a little deeper into soft flesh as he beamed down at her. There was another brief period of silence, uninterrupted by Koto for once as she had peered at him behind her finger shield. Her question made all the mirth drain simultaneously from the beaming face, the gray eyes now growing cold as memories scratched as the back of his mind.

CRACK! Went the two by four as the wood crashed hard into a back hunched over, splinters piercing pale skin and welts swelling in countless ugly red, bleeding and some bruising. CRACK! Koto did not cry, for that would increase the amount of blows to his back he had to suffer- instead all he could do was bite down as hard as he could on his own tongue as the family head, Morioka Watarou beat his son with arms swelled with bulging veins, his shouting echoing in Koto's ears "FUCKING USELESS! HOW THE HELL DO YOU EXPECT FOR YOU TO GET THE HEIR POSITION IF YOU KEEP FUCKING UP!? HUH!?" CRACK!

Fingers clenched tight together in the restraints as Koto took in a shallow breath.

"Oh... thanks, I guess." The pretty girl across from him looked at the bouquet of red roses, her face glowing in the city's night light, long lashes coming down upon equally lovely green eyes. Sakura's head tilted up to meet Koto's gaze, the bouquet being discarded within the nearby trash bin, his heart sinking in his chest like a heavy stone, "I prefer Juliet Roses, though. Let's just get this over with." Koto swallowed back a wave of hurt, forcing his lips to curve up in a tentative smile for the girl across from him, though her eyes showed obvious disinterest as she turned on her heel, the distance between them feeling as impenetrable as it had since their first omiai.

"...Why should I feel regret over crushing some insects?" The boy's tone lacked the unnatural cheer as the cold gray gazed in unnerving rage at the woman, unrelated to his pain, his frustration. "They deserved it. Every. Last. One." No remorse, no regret, no hesitation. These were what composed of the teenage that was Koto, evident in the blood that stained his clothes, blood that belonged to people who had crossed him far too many times. Did they think his kindness was unending? That he would be forever spineless and allow them to tread all over him?! No, not him. Not now.
 
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Ohta Emao
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Oh no. The wave of silence rolled in and washed over the sand castle walls of her hands. They foamed away, currents slowly sludging digits down to the floor as every crack in her facade was assaulted. Left behind was her bare face, molten horror dragging drooping eyebrows downwards to a slack jaw. He didn’t even feel remorseful about it. How was she supposed to rehabilitate someone who didn’t feel bad about killing people? Dread covered her neck in a thin veil of dampness. The blouse hugged her body as if it were arms, wet and slithering into her every crevice as a second layer of skin.

He did appear to be capable of feeling rage, however. But rage wouldn’t bring her home now, would it? The seconds seemed to trickle by. Then a thought struck her with the force of a stomp that tore down the remaining wrinkles. Her expression smoothed out into a blank canvas, one that said: Would she even have a home to return to if she didn’t participate? The flighty voice echoed with grating remembrance in her head: “-If your contestant wins, per each week you will receive ¥53, 172, 000 (approx. $500,000)!”.

Her breath hitched. That was a lot of money, more than enough for her rent and whatever other necessities she might need. Color slowly seeped back in upon chubby cheeks and the lump in her throat that threatened to burst into either tears or puke, ebbed away. The grey gaze burrowed itself in its spot instead, a sizzling liquid metal that reminded her of the rail at the vantage point back home. Hot and scalding the palms that leaned over it.

He was going to fight for her. She wouldn’t have to be in the ring- right? And he was a killer so…Emao gawked back at him. So she didn’t have to feel bad, did she? The brunette swallowed, hard. “First of all, it’s not ‘old lady’´, but Ohta-san to you,” She fought through the snivelling “-Second of all, you’re sick. Absolutely bat shit crazy”.

“Third of all, yeah. Okay. I admit that it was stupid.” Hands slinked back up to palm over the frown that cringed painfully at the confession. “-But at least I’m not a killer.” Emao let the deadpan statement simmer under the blinding ceiling light. There was not an inch of the room that it didn’t illuminate, including the glare that she levelled his way from the edge of her fleshy mask.

The money was more than enough, enough to even cover even the hospital bills. Emao grabbed the chair that the boy had sent tipping over and pulled it upright. Then she plopped down across him, with enough distance to still be out of reach for another kick and arms crossed in a guard over chest. Yeah, the light oversaw it all; disgruntled frown and little details like the mole that sat pretty beneath her eye and all. No pretences, only begrudging judgement as she continued.

"Fourth, why pretend you care about my reasons? It's better if you don't, because they're none of your business anyway".

Yeah, he was young- but not younger than what she had been back then.
 
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The draining of color from her face was like a soothing balm on all the splits and gashes in the boy's psyche. The little gashes that were bleeding his hurt, his anger were suppressed underneath the terror that the woman across from him was displaying, the sweat that was springing to life upon her neck, the slackjawed, dumbfounded expression: he almost wanted to laugh at the sight. But, too bad indeed that his mood had been ruined by remembering too much. However, it wouldn't do for Koto to remain agitated and frustrated... a subsequent straining against the handcuffs, though the metal met his ears in an irritating clang, souring his mood.

Ah, if only he could relieve some of this tension, his back was beginning to hurt, shoulders throbbing in an irritating ache... but more than that, his hands were itching to wrap around the soft neck of the woman across from him.

Then, there seemed to be a peculiar change in the woman as she gazed at him, very much strange. Did she gather what little courage she had in that weak body of hers? Gather it all up in a semblance of futile strength that would vanish if he could get himself free? He wondered indeed what could possibly be going through the silly woman's mind now as she had spoken up, and startlingly... it was in regards to his affectionate nickname for her. A snort left his lips then, finally breaking past the molten fury that had been restricting his tense facial expression, his lips cracking upward in a wide grin as his eyes gleamed maliciously, "Sorry, Old-san!"

He refused to call her properly by her name, instead opting for a shortened version of his nickname. Wasn't it more fitting now? He thought it was cute!

The second claim had made him snort again, rolling his eyes at what should be taken as an insult. "Oh really? That hurts, Old-san! My poor heart can't take that pain! Woe is me, for I am a lunatic! Oh, what am I do to?!" His head leaned back against the chair once more, a heavy sigh leaving past his lips as pouted, "Old-san is a meanie! Boo! Boo!" Koto obviously wasn't taking her seriously at all, the malicious glint to his eye having long since eased back into joyous amusement at the woman who was trying to take things as seriously as possible, but he refused. Why should he go along at her pace, as weak as she was?

After all, her first impression seared into him a weak woman, weak in spirit and body...

Like he used to be. And he hated the sight of it, this weak thing that only would snap at the taunt of him calling her old. If only... if only he could reach across and just crush her to pieces, then he wouldn't be remembering this unpleasant feeling? Ugh, he felt nauseous now.

Her voice droned on, and the third point she had made had caused Koto to raise an eyebrow at her, smiling widening to hide the nausea beginning to seize him as she glared at him from the chair he had so rudely kicked before toward her, "...Careful, Old-san. Keep looking at me like that and my heart might skip a beat," He snorted again at the words, shaking his head as he wheezed, "Hahaha! Sorry, sorry, even that was a bit too much for me!" He leaned forward, his head resting on the table again as gray eyes gleamed with contempt, "I hate people like you the most~ coward Old-san!"

"Hmmm?!"
He jolted upward suddenly at the last question, tilting his head back and forth as he considered it, "Well, to fill out this dreadful silence. I honestly don't really care though." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, an odd twitch following as his expression flickered with discomfort, only for it to fade just as quickly as he beamed, "Besides, if you don't want to share then that's fine! Shall I tell you how I killed the insects instead?! Ooh! That'll be fun!"
 
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Ohta Emao
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HOW WAS SHE A COWARD? Her response was appropriate if anything, considering that she was faced with the gigantic task of not getting killed- and preferably getting along- with a murderer. A task that was seeming all the more impossible by the second and weighing down on small shoulders with hopelessness that rivalled Sisyphus. Her doe eyes had quickly averted at his tease, but now that she had been called a coward (and realised that every devious word he spoke was meant to provoke) she drilled him once more to the chair. The chair he leaned forward in while she instinctively inched back.

Her brows slanted a little more steeply with disapproval after, as if she meant to crush him under them. Emao did contemplate not answering just to spite the boy, and her lips welded shut with the intent of as much. That was, at least until his next suggestion slammed into it with a right hook and blasted her jaw off its hinges.

"Besides, if you don't want to share then that's fine! Shall I tell you how I killed the insects instead?! Ooh! That'll be fun!"

“NO!”
She cried out, expression taking a turn for beady fright again. Convalescent cheeks paled and swallowed back the surge of nausea that glazed them acidic. “Er- I-I’m good thanks…” Emao clenched down dryly on her stomach that lurched. Thanks??? Her mind repeated with the sort of dreadful clarity that only came in hindsight. “‘S not what I meant to say-” Her fingers rubbed sore circles on temple to produce an acceptable excuse.

It eventually cracked. “Money. I came for the money, okay? It’s not anything some young’un like you would understand, but us adults got things to pay for if we want to live.” Well, now it just sounded like she was playing into the whole ‘Old-san’ nickname that he had so kindly (not) assigned (forced) onto her. Brown eyes narrowed bitterly around the flickering memory of the boy on the screen. Well-groomed and fitted with a uniform that trumpeted wealth just from the fabric alone. Was it silk? Her face puckered down on the image to squeeze out the remembrance. Hmm…She felt as if though she had seen the insignia on the chest before-
 
Disapproval was all he got from her, a steely silence that she seemed to be trying to stubbornly hold onto. It was as if she had thrown up stone walls - scratch that, plastic walls for his generous offer had caused the woman's steely countenance to shatter and implode, her crying out evident of her terror as she protested against it. This in turn made him smile; a smile that was rather pleased in himself that he had gotten her to crack. She was too easy~!

Her awkward words afterward bespoke of the nervous, jittery characteristics that made up the woman before him. Stumbling to reject his generous offer, and an unease which settled upon her as she seemed to be trying to think, though eventually he got an answer. A very lackluster answer though, causing Koto's expression to pucker as if he'd tasted something sour, "Obviously you came for the money. I'm not a fool, Old-san. I meant, what do you need it for? A reason!" After all, it wasn't as if Koto didn't understand the need for money, not that it bothered him too much that the woman didn't seem to elaborate, and was instead playing into his nickname for her.

"After all, if I'm gonna be risking my neck for you Old-san, I need a reason to~ otherwise, maybe I'll just conveniently lose! How fun will that be?" The cold glint to his eye was one that only could be mustered up from pure, unrelenting spite. Considering his unpredictability so far, one shouldn't put it past him to actually do it, it wasn't as if he had anyone who would be grieving over his passing. And it wasn't as if he cared about the woman across from him, in fact he seemed to be leaning toward the prospect of killing her than trying to stay alive to benefit them both.

However, this threat was quickly followed by a brighter grin as he giggled, "Just kidding~! Keep your secrets, Old-san." Koto's expression turned questioning then at the look crossing his sponsor's face. What was causing her to make such an expression? It was quite a bizarre expression indeed, like she was thinking too hard about something. This was a new expression to intrigue him, the teen scooting his chair closer to the woman thinking.

"Are you constipated or something?" The words left his lips without hesitation, his expression genuinely showing confusion for a few seconds, then deeming that this was the appropriate answer, leaned back in his chair and inhaled deep, "OI, SOMEONE COME QUICK, OLD-SAN-"
 
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Ohta Emao
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"After all, if I'm gonna be risking my neck for you Old-san, I need a reason to~ otherwise, maybe I'll just conveniently lose! How fun will that be?"

He could do that? No, her lip quivered at the realisation, the important question was- would he do that? Emao thought it over under bated breath, heart too scared to beat in case it would reveal her fear. It was overall a useless endeavour as her face gave it away anyway. Eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows ready to take flight with how they had scrunched up. He technically had nothing to lose on it, just his life which he already appeared to hold little regard for as it was. And she, well, did she have anything to lose?

She didn’t have a job anymore, was on the verge of being evicted and the only person that was of any significance in her life was- well.

He quickly dispelled the need for an answer with a giggle. Annoying. But the giggle did not affect the seed of uncertainty that had been sown in her heart from the joke. It was yet small, a parasite waiting to take root into something bigger with the right nutrients, but all the same there. Koto couldn’t possibly have known how this would come to affect her later, or he did and found the prospect entertaining. Regardless, it was an event reserved for the future. Here in the now she was-

"Are you constipated or something?"

“What?”
Emao jolted out of her thoughts and the rattle was not even through and over with before he sent her reeling again. "OI, SOMEONE COME QUICK, OLD-SAN-" His shout pulled the trigger to limbs and Emao catapulted out of her chair. They shot across the table and her hip painfully slammed into the edge. The force from the catapult recoiled back onto the chair in the meanwhile, and tipped it over again. A clatter cut through the air, then a hand slammed onto the table below.

The other smacked flush over his mouth.

The brunette leaned her weight into the palm that had him plugged up and released a row of stuttering breaths that preluded her shout. “W-Wh-WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING?!” Bright red cheeks oversaw the hand that cinched around the flesh of his lips. “Jesus,” Her face cinched angrily alongside it “Do you have no filter…? Don’t just jump to strange conclusions like that.”

The door behind her suddenly opened, the very same one that she had begged earlier with clenched fists until her knuckles blushed raw. Emao craned her neck back at the guards and the guards stared back from their interrupted charge. What, so they were still out there. They had just ignored her earlier, but now it was fine? She didn’t realise what a strange picture it must’ve been- her leaning forward over the table and all up in the boy’s face while her hand deprived him of yet another freedom beside the handcuffs:

The one of breathing.
 
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A flurry of activity, guided by an appalled woman who had dared to quickly move toward the dangerous criminal across from her. Koto's shout had died in a muffled, "MMPH!" The reason being the hand that had suddenly clamped down as hard as it could over his mouth and nose, precious oxygen being restrained as gray eyes widened in pure surprise as she was leaning her weight in upon the hand. His first thought was, her hand is small. Then, her face is so red. Is she angry? Lips tingled underneath the press of skin against them, and with it the young man's eyes flickered to the door behind the woman constricting his airways, guards who had reacted to his shout.

So, they had been lingering there the whole time? And they didn't think to interject until now? Well, not that there had been much of anything to interrupt, for it had been mostly Koto verbally tormenting the poor woman that thought it would be smart to clamp her hand over his mouth. She really was stupid, wasn't she? She had been sufficiently warned from the monitor of what he was capable of, and yet she still dared to come this close? This personal? Very well, actions must come with consequences, and considering she gave such delightful reactions before now, he was sure this would be quite amusing as well. Something needed to be done quickly anyways, he couldn't really breathe with the tight hold over his mouth and nose.

Chapped, cracked lips then parted, breath hot and scalding against the palm that currently was restricting much needed airflow, his tongue swept past his lips and then pressed against the flesh pressed against his mouth. Slow and methodical was the pathway as he made sure to put as much pressure as he could to make it known to the stupid woman, then... bite. His lips glued to the surface of her palm, sucking the flesh in between his teeth as he applied pressure, nothing too hard: he wasn't barbaric after all! No, a teasing bite, light and gentle as he rolled the soft flesh in between his teeth, gray eyes gazing up at the woman with obvious contempt in the depths which shown too well, he knew damned well what he was doing, and he wasn't going to stop until she let go. "Mmm~❤"

The sound in of itself was purposefully uttered strangely as his teeth applied a bit more pressure upon the flesh trapped in his grip. Why not make her feel utterly embarrassed?! Oh, it was amusing how much her facial expressions did change, so acting as unruly as he was now was for certain to give him quite the show indeed... he wondered how red her face could get. Or even better yet, make the situation so utterly embarrassing that any normal person would quite possibly want to die inside! Hahaha! That would be so much fun! The thought seemed to encourage him to roll the flesh of her palm within the grip of his teeth a bit more, tauntingly as his tongue pressed against it-

It was only when the woman would inevitably rip her hand away had the boy breathed in deep again, the oxygen being deprived from his lungs causing him to cough a little bit as a wicked grin inevitably crossed his face as he glowered at the woman from his seat, "My -huff- how bold of you, Old-san~! I didn't know you were like that, but you should be more careful!" He leaned a bit closer in his seat, boldly speaking with no hesitation before their audience of guards, "I can always bite harder if you want me too~❤" Suggestive, embarrassingly so in the smirk that crossed his face and the guards who were silent onlookers for the awkward situation they were viewing had exchanged glances between each other.

This caused the boy to lean to the side in his chair as he called out to the guards, still not hesitating at all, "My bad! Old-san wasn't constipated! She was just being naughty!" This outburst caused another look in the duo's direction, furrowing brows and visibly confused faces, more quizzical though in poor Emao's direction; as if silently condemning the poor woman in silent questions that sprung forth due to Koto's outburst. Meanwhile, Koto seemed to be loving every second of this, now leaning back in his chair with the most smug expression on his face, his eyes filled with laughter. Oh, this was the most fun he'd had in so long!
 
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Ohta Emao
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Hot air tickled over soft mounds of flesh, the lines and wrinkles all that remained as echoes of a hard past. They had grown smooth in the absence of labour, maybe even complacent with the pen that it usually gripped. Holding a pen was what Emao was used to and what she had done for the past 25 years. What she was not used to, on the other hand, was the perspiring warmth that breached the barrier of stifled inhale. At first, she thought it was her own sweat, clammy skin acting as a springboard for the silent pitter-patter that descended from a clouded mind. Then it became obvious that it wasn’t as she twisted her head back around and stared the storm in the eye.

Grey eyes nailed her to the spot, and the tongue that undulated in waves upon her palm was the hammer that clobbered them in. Insane, he was insane.

And she was insane for reacting the way she did.

He bit down and Emao groaned a weak echo of disgust while brows trembled in their staunch protest. “Ugh-” The electric pulses that erupted from the suctioned spot sent the hairs on her nape bristling and she shivered. Involuntarily so and much in line with her cheeks that flared up drunkenly at the sensation. Yes, a drunken stupor was all that it was. Fuelled by her own stupidity of having forgotten who she was dealing with here and his uncomfortable reminder of it.

Still. Her voice hitched on the lump in her throat and she ripped her hand away faster than her mind could spell badu-. “You-” a breathless wariness characterised the way she cradled her hand close to her chest. Emao turned away, keen on not letting him enjoy any more of her reactions. “-I hate you.” Instead, she faced the guards whose expressions only stoked further embarrassment. The drunken flash became a scalding burn- “Whatchu lookin’ at, huh?” then seething venom.

The men who had gotten acquainted with a timid and gentle woman on their way there didn’t recognise this glaring twin of hers. Unsure on what to do, since the emergency hadn’t been an emergency at all, they slowly removed themselves from the room. Left behind were the grinning prisoner and his gravely silent sponsor.

Her hand felt icky and a continuous chant was recited behind eyes squeezed shut.

Don’t give in- Don’t give in- You have to keep it in.

Murderer or not, he was acting more like a brat than anything else. A new announcement was made through the speakers and seconds after a staff member dropped by to lead them into the next stage. The guards from earlier stuck to Koto’s side like glue as they wandered through the corridor.
 
The boy viewed with baited breath for her reaction, or rather the following expression that could possibly filter upon her face. Would it be complete and utter disgust? After all, there had been a lovely red color to grace her face as he'd taken to violating her poor hand; he could still taste her skin upon his tongue, the softness of it all truly confirming in his mind that without a doubt she was a weakling. Far too weak, far too pitiful, and far too pathetic to be here - that was until the woman seethed and expressed hatred. This made the grin upon his face widen as a wheezing laugh left past his lips. The feeling is mutual. It certainly was. Considering how weak the woman before him was, it truly made the nauseous feeling begin to come back; one which quickly faded into stunned surprise as the woman had turned to... snap at the guards?

Gray eyes widened in response, his lips forming a surprised o at the venom in her voice. Now, that was certainly a shocker... or maybe it wasn't after all? She had snapped at him earlier, expressing quite the amount of anger at his playful taunts. So, she had some sort of breaking point, a breaking point that was only agitated when she was at her limits? Hmm... maybe she wasn't too weak after all? Not that this amounted to much in the grand scheme of things, nor did it make Koto even gain a single grain of respect for her, but it at least subdued some of the urge to kill her... somewhat. The surprised expression on his face faded as he slouched back in his chair, a cold smile crossing his face then as gray eyes peered with newfound malicious intent at the poor woman whose back was turned.

It seemed as if he found a new toy to play with.

...​
By the time the announcement had blared to life and summoned the staff member and the guards to grab hold of Koto, the boy instead seemed to be lost in thought - but this was far from the truth. He was hungry. Very, very hungry. Three days of not eating or receiving anything to drink had left him now completely drained, and torturing his poor sponsor truly had made him quite tired expending all that energy... even if it was just talking. This resulted in the handcuffed teen to be mostly supported by the unwilling guards who were handling him, the obvious uneasiness he could feel from them as he mumbled in a less than energetic tone, "...I promise I won't bite you... heheh- ugh.." Everything felt like it was spinning from the gait of the guards, and the blinding white everywhere wasn't helping as more muffled, incomprehensible sentences filtered from the boy's mouth until they begun to reach the end of a long stretch of hallways into what seemed to be a large, open space filled with plush chairs and a monitor currently deactivated on the far side of the room, but even further down the large open space was a long hallway filled with rooms.

Each room was adorned with a plaque, as well as numbers displayed in black upon the gold plaque background. Their guide in the rather silent staff member continued to move them through the numbered plaques until they reached: 489. Upon stopping before the door, the woman turned to face Emao, a bright smile plastered upon her face as she produced jingling keys from her pocket, "Ohta-san, here is the keys to both you and Morioka-kun's room. Make sure to keep it in a safe place! Ah, right! Morioka-kun!" The smiling woman approached the teenager who now was looking upon her with bleary eyes as she leaned forward and set to unlocking the cuffs binding his wrists, the metal clinking and clanking until they fell away, providing much needed relief to stiff shoulders as she spoke cheerfully, pointing to the side of her neck, "Now, if you try to escape Morioka-kun, please keep in mind there is a chip right here~! I'm sure I don't need to explain what it'll do, right?"

Cold gray eyes regarded the smiling woman, her own eyes reflecting the chill he regarded her with until he snorted. Oh yeah, he remembered her alright, the first face that had even greeted him in his holding cell before being hauled away to this place. "Right, right, Bitch-chan~! I'll be a good little boy!" The mocking tone and less than flattering nickname made the woman's smile twitch, a flare of irritation sparking in the smiling eyes that appeared to ooze her distaste for having to deal with this impertinent child. And yet, the woman in professionalism that bespoke that she perhaps had been doing this for far too long had taken in a sharp breath as Koto, still being held up by the guards complained, "Can you hurry up? I'm hungry!" Yes, in this moment, even after being reminded that there was a chip in his neck, his more pressing concern was hunger, and followed by that, a shower... ah yes, he really could go for a shower right about now.

The woman's eyebrows twitched as she struggled to reign in the urge to wrap her hands around his neck, turning on her heel as she approached the door and with a key she had on her own person had unlocked the door, allowing them to enter... though it was rough for Koto's part as he was practically deposited in a heap upon the floor by the guards who didn't seem too inclined to be holding him much longer, prompting the boy to groan, "I'm still very fragile you know!" The room inside was spacious, in fact seeming more fit for comfort with a connecting kitchen and enough room for two people to reside in quite comfortably. Like promised, it seemed like Omega Corp had ensured that each contestant and their sponsor would be living in comfort for as long as they remained in the running for the games. The staff member spoke up again, her tone bright and cheery, "As promised, Ohta-san, Omega Corp will be supplying you with necessary supplies to ensure your stay will be as comfortable as possible!"

Placing a hand to her own chest, the staff member in turn had bowed, "As for me, I am the supervisor of this block of contestants - Hironaka Otsu. If there is anything you need, or any questions that you have please-"

"Oi, Bitch-chan, can you go away? Your voice is annoying."

Otsu's expression twitched again, her lips pressing in a tight line as she smiled coldly at the boy still sprawled out on the floor, "The adults are trying to talk here, okay, Morioka-kun?"

"Huh? Bitch-chan is an adult? I thought you were a pig?"

Otsu's expression threatened to crack, a tinge of rage flaring to life in her eyes as Koto's blank expression seared into her soul. You little shit! Do you think this is funny?! Out of all of the murderers I had to recruit- I hope you die quickly, fucking piece of shit! I don't want to deal with this bastard for a whole season! The swell of angry thoughts buzzed about in her mind as she turned back toward Emao, hands clenched together tightly as she was reigning in the bloodlust beginning to swell in her chest, now saying her voice straining with cheer, "A-anyways, Ohta-san... g-good luck. Hehe~!" The woman looked like she was about to snap, truly. It was almost sad as the woman turned on her heel, her steps quick as she exited with the guards following her in tow, door closing behind her with a solid click... it seemed like Koto's maliciousness did not end at poor Emao.
 
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Ohta Emao
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Dread was the common denominator for her current circumstances.

Dread occupied her mind while feet hauled invisible chains and dread dictated the sways of her drooping head. WHAT HAD SHE DONE?! Her mental state was a poor rendition of Edvard Munch’s ‘the scream’ right now, and it would’ve shown externally if it weren’t for her already damaged reputation. Invisible hands yanked at her hair- SHE HAD JUST SNARLED AT POTENTIALLY THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO STILL KEPT HER SAFE AND ALIVE IN HERE. Not to mention that she had also shown them a very…unsavoury scene. From imaginary hair pulling to a transparent facepalm, Emao’s mind was a jumbled mess that could only process the tour in bits and pieces.

Granted, it had been a very long day with lots of twists and turns and her patience had already worn thin twice and she probably would’ve been able to focus more if he wasn’t so…vexing. Rapid-fire thoughts ricocheted off the slumped head of the teen. Yeah, you know what? This was all his fault, she decided at her wit's end with the hallucinations. And Emao was quite content with the decision to shift all the blame onto him.

Why not? She reasoned while the tour guide led them deeper into the white labyrinth and lined up doors in front of them. Guilty of murder, technically manslaughter, guilty of arson and guilty of being annoying- he might as well be guilty for her quickly declining sanity too. White doors, white hallways, white everything except the keys that dangled like bait before her eyes. Not the keys that she truly wanted, but keys all the same. Emao’s hands cupped under them in the likeness of a beggar, and perhaps she was one. She certainly didn’t have much of a choice at least.

Brown eyes peered up at the gold plaque that displayed her room number.

It could very well become the lid to her casket.

Anyway, was she surprised that his antagonistic behaviour was not reserved for just her? The woman opened the door and they stepped inside. No. Otsu, as she introduced herself, reassured her once more that Omega Corp. would supply her with necessities. Emao thought about requesting a gag for the pathetic pile that was Koto on the floor.

At least she would have shelter above her head.

The two figures bickered on mute before her eyes in a reenactment of a really bad comedy- or a tragedy- that would play on the tv on a Monday morning. Prime time for the demographic of pensioners when other hits like ‘the little house on the Prairie’ and ‘Dallas’ would air. How did Emao know this? Otsu ripped her face up in a smile that asked to be pardoned. It was her grandmother’s favourite shows, of course. The departing figure of the guide didn’t strike her as odd yet.

The door opened.

Well, at least she would get to rest her head from her supposed sponsee-

Then it closed.






“Huh,” Her eyes turned to Koto’s silhouette that was very much still there on the floor. Emao blinked slowly, looking quite oafish as she did. “Wait.” There was no one there to wait for her. “HUH?!” SO THIS WAS WHAT THEY MEANT BY SHELTERING AND CARING? “HELLO?! SURELY THERE MUST BE ANOTHER WAY I CAN CARE FOR HIM WITHOUT HAVING TO LIVE WITH HIM-”

Even if there was another way, it didn’t look like they cared. Her small figure repeated the scene from before by sliding down the door on her elbows. Ah. Emao went to tower over the teenager in likely the only time she would ever tower over someone instead. The urge to beat him to a pulp where he lay prompted fists to curl. She contemplated it over a few lingering seconds, then moved on without a word. Emao slid out of her heels in the hallway and put them neatly to the side.

“Get off the floor, you’re making it dirty.” It would’ve been the reverse in any other case.
 
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Koto's gaze slid over toward the woman, a very much immobilized Emao who looked as if the world was beginning to crumble around her. Of course, to him in his somewhat quickly becoming loopy state - this was hilarious. Her outburst prompted the boy's expression to crack as a broad grin had crossed his face at her new outburst. Oh, poor Old-san! The way she was screaming and protesting at the unfair situation she was in; it almost was as if she were treating it as if she had been locked in with a monster- oh wait.

As she slid upon her knees at the closed door, Koto instead had rolled over on his side as his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowing at the pounding headache, parched throat and clenching stomach reminding him that he was not in the best state right now. Of course, this was only until Emao had approached him, and he could feel quite the murderous intent beginning to flow off from the woman in ominous waves, and her subsequent words making the boy open his eyes as he shot her a genuine glare this time, the gray eyes quite cold as he grumbled, "Well excuse me for feeling weak, Old-san. Unlike you, I haven't been given anything to eat or drink for three days."

He paused for a mere moment, eyes flickering over her form as he closed his eyes and released a long sigh, "...Old-san, you really shouldn't be standing over someone in a skirt. What are you, a pervert? Not that I mind of course, but surely you shouldn't be trying to do such naughty things with me. Earlier was enough~!" His arms stretched over his head as he grunted, "Ahhh, my eyes has been blessed regardless~ thank you Old-san." It seemed as if that blunder had flipped a switch in the boy as he rolled over on his belly, stomach giving an audible grumble as he struggled to his feet, rolling his wrists experimentally as he swayed to his feet. How funny it was that it was so liberating to have his arms free! Now he just needed food.

...
It wouldn't be too long until the boy had raided the kitchen, albeit in search of ingredients as sore arms and shoulders set to grabbing up familiar shapes as he peered into then shelves, and inspecting the kitchen itself. Brand new kitchenware it seemed, clearly placed their for their benefit, although the fridge seemed to still be a bit on the low side, but enough remained within that he could make something of it, primarily eggs it seemed and some peppers and some meats.

The clattering coming from the kitchen would soon come to bear fruit as the smell emanating from the direction of the kitchen actually smelled... good? Deft hands of the boy were only going off of muscle memory, something that he would do when he would return home if his parents were not home... which was frequent. There was never a meal waiting for him when he returned, and considering most responsibilities were dropped upon him instead of his younger sister-

Ah. The teenager's expression twitched as he stared down at his finished handiwork, two servings of omelet rice; something that Yuuki always...

Shit, he was thinking unnecessarily. It make perfect sense why he would make two! He was starving after all for one, and for two, there was another person with him anyways. "Hey! Old-san!" He shouted over his shoulder, "I made food, if you don't eat it, I'll eat both!" Koto certainly would do it too.
 
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Ohta Emao
Vocab:

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"...Old-san, you really shouldn't be standing over someone in a skirt. What are you, a pervert? Not that I mind of course, but surely you shouldn't be trying to do such naughty things with me. Earlier was enough~!" "Ahhh, my eyes has been blessed regardless~ thank you Old-san."

She winced. Dammit. ”THEN DON’T LOOK.” Maybe she should have beaten him up after all. There was something strangely aggravating with the boy beside the obvious disregard he held for others. Something that urged her to pull on mouth corners and hunker down on her tongue with jaws. Maybe that was it, the thing that had her prying her eyes off his slowly rising figure; wobbling like a newborn that was just taking his first steps and emoting as freely as one.

He didn’t ever hold his tongue and there was this unabashed selfishness that came with it. Emao had a thousand different things she could’ve said to him, a thousand different judgments she could bestow upon him at the flick of her mouth’s gavel. But what effect did words have on someone that simply didn’t care about others' perception of them? Koto was as free as he was shackled.

Emao was only shackled.

-

The failure to enforce her will on any of her current circumstances had prompted the brunette to retreat into the rooms away from the kitchen. The remaining space was nondescript, but not with the same inanimate and antiseptic cleanness that the facility had brandished so far. Instead, it held the sentiment of a newly constructed apartment complex, complete with neutral-toned walls and rounded furniture that put the dot on the i’s in minimalistic. Rounded as in the edges had been adorned with plastic moulds and chained or glued to the floor. Surely a safety precaution for the more than dubious tenant was stirring up a cacophony of clangs from the kitchen.

Emao settled in front of the bookcases that had been tucked into the corner of the supposed living room (as much living as they had left to enjoy) and traced the colourful backs. So this was what the hobby section of the interview had been for. Her fingertips rose and faltered upon the waves of textured bindings and printed covers. Then she glimpsed something in the middle of the waves and dived deep into a particular surging tide. Emao clamped down on the find and reeled it in out of the ocean.

Staring back at her on a plastic front cover was the red cape of a little girl: Little red riding hood. Her brows knitted silently and from the kitchen resounded a new kind of dissonant nuisance-

"I made food, if you don't eat it, I'll eat both!"

Her stomach growled discontentedly and her shoulders hunched over it.

Dammit.

A few seconds later, she emerged. Chest and chin held high, as high as she could muster with her short stature, and with a rigidness to the limbs that settled down on the edge of the chair across him. He could starve to death for all that she cared. Same thing with the room, what was the point of getting all this money for rent if she wouldn’t even be living there? The omelette rice wafted its steaming essence in her face and her mouth watered. Annoyingly so while lips pursed. “Did you poison it?” The bite to her tone was in juxtaposition to her pride that cracked. Her hand reached for the fork through the fissures and she slumped in defeat as she did.

"Otherwise you just missed your chance to."
 
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Just as Koto had placed the two servings of omelette rice upon the table, his unwilling sponsor had rounded the corner into the room, a rigidness in her movements and a comically strange way she was holding herself... was she trying to make herself look bigger? A defense mechanism? Bewilderment swelled within the boy's chest as he raised an eyebrow at the short woman as she had taken the only other seat at the table, only to shrug and push her portion closer to her. She was funny, he'd give her that. Funny in the sense that she did things that were so very futile. Utterly useless. These thoughts filtered through his mind as Koto had gripped the back of his own chair, scooting it backward and sitting upon it in an exhausted heap. Ah, he was famished-

Gray eyes flickered up toward the woman across from him again as she spoke up, her question being utterly nonsensical and causing Koto in turn to cock his head to one side as if not comprehending the question itself. "...Why would I poison it?" Genuine confusion filtered in through his tone as he then huffed, shaking his head though quickly regretting the action as that served to make his already lightheaded state worse - he really needed to just sit still. "You said you wanted the money earlier, it wouldn't make much sense for me to poison you, now would it? Besides, I have no intention of dying just yet."

After all, if either one of them died, it seemed like it would be heavily implied the other would as well. Whether they liked it or not, their lives were practically linked together at this point. "And poison is a coward's way of killing anyways! Not interesting at all." He grumbled that in a more upset tone... as if that made sense to be upset over at all. Truly, Koto made no sense, but perhaps he took some weird sense of pride in his method? Granted it occurred only when he snapped but... still! There was no benefit to killing the weird, funny woman sitting across from him. Sure, there might be a temporary satisfaction in bashing her head in, but then what? He'd be denied her funny expressions... even if looking at her still made him quite sick to his stomach, or was that his stomach just clenching out of hunger again?

Picking up the fork for himself, the boy added with a cold smirk as his eyes gazed in a sadistic light at Emao, "I'm having too much fun bullying you anyways, Old-san~!" Ah, to bluntly say it out loud with no shame, he enjoyed tormenting her if only to see what reactions she would give him, though one would have to debate whether this was good in the sense that she would live as long as he was interested in keeping her around, or incredibly terrible since it was Koto and considering the verbal harassment he'd done so far, no one could truly blame the poor victim if they felt dread. Perhaps it was also some liberation on Koto's part for the harassment of the weak woman across from him, therapeutic in the fact that she reminded him of himself before he decided to throw it all away.

At least he didn't start physically harassing her... aside from licking her hand, but that was her own fault!

Now, Koto's attention turned back to the food before him as he begun to eat and despite his unruly appearance, rude behavior and ravenous hunger... he had excellent table manners? Though, this was a result of once more physical remembrance of what would happen if he ever did something improper at the family table on the rare occasions both parents were home. Cold eyes that analyzed his every movement, and even if both of his parents held gentleness toward his younger sister; the moment he so much as did something unpleasant even if he was starving - it would always be followed up with a brutal hit. After all, he needed to be absolutely perfect in all aspects to become heir! It was all for his benefit.... hah, what a sick joke.

The memory of his parents soured the taste of the omelette rice on his tongue, though by all means it was well made, the memory of sitting at the table in view of both of his parents just made him feel sick. Ugh, he wasn't going to let that stop him from eating! No way! Determination set in his heart as he shoved more food in his mouth - though again, not too much... he couldn't bring himself to shove his mouth full of food. The thought of doing so sent shivers of fear down his spine. Koto knew it was silly, and stupid, and part of him resented this residual fear, but he couldn't help it.
 
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Ohta Emao
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It was a stupid supposition, that he would poison the food, and he pointed out as much. It just made her frown all the more. Emao clutched the fork a little tighter and willed it to imprint its steely composure into her palm. She wished she could be a little more like the fork, cool and unwavering against outside forces. Instead, her eyebrow immediately twitched at the first dumb comment he made about how he found joy in bullying her. Not unwavering at all.

The brunette peered up from her plate. Gray eyes mirrored the metal in how they glimmered under the kitchen lights and Emao raked the reflection with disdain. In a way, she was kinda similar to the fork, similar in how they were both useless at grasping at straws. She stabbed it into the omelette and scooped a mouthful of rice and runny egg. “Whatever, you could’ve at least cleaned up before eating.” And at least she wouldn’t have to grasp for anything while eating.

It had been a while since she had shared a meal like this, or 4 years to be more precise. The last time had been in the comfort of her small apartment; a four by four square meter shoebox that was situated on the second floor of a hillside brick building. She had been struggling back then as a newly graduated artist, working two 9-5’s and doing scooter delivery for the restaurant downstairs-

The summers were unbearably hot and tangy with grease that wafted from the open windows of the kitchen below. It unfortunately lined up with that of her balcony and the other wall faced the alleway that ran up the side of the building. Heat used to funnel from the oven through the shared ventilation and the exposed pipes along the ceiling whistled every time she turned on the water. The days were stifling, but the nights were cool and flickering with lights that lit up the city below in landing strips for families. She had only had her boyfriend at the time, but he was more than enough for her back then.

If Koto was the epitome of correct table manners, then Emao was the antithesis; leg pulled up to her chest and foot perched on the edge of the chair. She shrimped forward over the table every time she was to take a bite, and every bite was then followed up with a wandering look to her lap. Angled away to prevent flashing or not, and whether she had learned her lesson or not, it didn’t detract from her horrible posture or her habit of nibbling. Yes, she was nibbling away at the food and terribly slowly at that.

Emao would’ve thought that the silence would be comforting. Contrary to expectation it was more stifling than any badly ventilated apartment she had ever lived in. Brown eyes studied him from the corner of a glance and the picture from the monitor popped up in her head. “Cooking. Where did you learn it?” She minced her words as well while she ate, but the implication was obvious: You don’t look or act like someone who would know how to take care of themselves.
 
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"I can't very much do that when I'm lightheaded, Old-san." He replied in between swallowing down with care scoops of the omelette rice before him. After all, it was a challenge in of itself that he had been able to cook a meal, perhaps only guided by sheer determination to fill his empty stomach with some substance. Silence had settled between them after his swift retort, though admittedly Koto was feeling quite uncomfortable in his battered, filthy clothes, some spots of which had hardened from the blood of his victims that had long since formed darkened splotches on the material.

Not to mention, there was still the matter of him cleaning up after himself after making the meal they currently were dining on, but he would get to that later. Old habits die hard after all.

At the thought, his eyes flickered upward to see Emao's absolutely absurd way of eating which made the boy pause as he raised an eyebrow at her. God, his mother would have had a fit if he ever so much as put his leg up like she was, and why was she looking toward her lap so much? Oh. Right, his comment earlier. This caused Koto's lips to twitch up in a subdued smile as he lowered his gaze to the plate before him. Well, it seemed like Emao was rightfully putting up her guard again, the table certainly did help preserve some modesty for her. At least she learned from her mistakes... almost. He wasn't going to stare, of course! He could behave when he wanted to, and besides food was more important right now!

Her voice pierced through the silence again just as his fork was lowering to pierce more of the food before him, only to freeze as he went still. The words, although seemingly innocent enough had a bite behind them that he could detect very well. The face of the boy had settled into an empty mask as the fork trembled in his grasp, then came down to stab into the rice before him, his usual obnoxious smile cracking upon his face, shattering the icy shell that had encased him for only a few seconds in time, "You didn't have to say that so rudely, Old-san! That hurts you know, hahaha!"

Koto's gaze turned down to the remainder of his food, giving a light shrug of his shoulders which gave prickles of subdued pain in response, "If I didn't cook, I didn't eat. My parents were... interesting that way I suppose. So, I had to learn on my own when they weren't home, which was often." A lonely house, empty whenever he would return home from school, and his brat of a sister verbally complaining as soon as he took one step in the door that he was late, parroting insults that his mother would spit at him in that haughty voice of hers as she harassed him to do what she wanted. The obnoxious smile of his was ebbing away as the memories began to prickle at his consciousness, gray eyes becoming slightly colder.

He really did hate returning home. For when he did come home, he was at stuck under the whims of that ungrateful, spoiled brat. Not once had his parents thought to give her even a fraction of the responsibility he had to shoulder; probably because she was their precious baby, and she wouldn't need to learn all of that if he succeeded-

His fingers clenched around the fork, causing him to close his eyes as he swallowed down the wave of anger and a crazed grin soon would be flashed upon his features as gray eyes focused once more on Emao, "But, that's all boring stuff that I'm sure you don't want to know, Old-san~!" The teen then set to continuing to consuming the food before him, as if he hadn't been angry at all, finally commenting, "...But I must say, your posture is atrocious, Old-san. Do you always eat like that? You're gonna hurt your back, and I'm sure you don't want more body pain when you're so old~"
 
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Ohta Emao
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He froze and his mask fell for exactly 4 seconds that she counted under interrupted chewing. Suddenly, when that toothy grin wasn’t there to etch lines upon his face and when his gaze wasn’t brimming with fox-eyed glee, he looked quite young all of a sudden. Maybe it was the way that squinting eyes didn’t hide the eyebags anymore behind scrunching, dark and all-consuming, or maybe it was the eyes themselves; a thousand yards away despite sitting across her. In any way, he didn’t have that mask of grinning wrinkles to hide behind anymore, and without the mask his face matched the boy from the monitor.

Before when he had licked her hand, she had likened him to a cat mentally. Now, he just looked like a lost puppy that had been scolded by his owner. A sorry excuse of the former self-assured murderer that was once upon a time seated on the same spot; wan and fading into the shadows of wherever his mind had taken him. Emao blinked and his usual insolent grin was once again hinged upon curled mouth corners when she looked. Hm. A soft huff of air left her as he put the word ‘rudely’ and ‘old-san’ in the same sentence.

Yeah. But not as rude as you. She let the nickname fly by to focus on the rest and how his face either crumbled or ripped up. It was a precarious dance of muscles, performed under the guise of words that were meant to distract. Emao found herself strangely relating to the story- until he started to berate her again. “Oh shut up. My body is already in pain from having to deal with you.” Gone with the wind was the compassion and in its stead settled a normal scowl that gritted teeth.

She pulled the book that she had been sneaking peeks at up from her lap and placed it on the table. “Can’t believe a killer would care about something so minor like posture. You’re not looking very fresh yourself,” Emao quirked a brow. That was about the only reason why she felt comfortable indulging in her habits like this. "Then on the other hand you kinda strike me as someone who comes from a wealthy family." Brown eyes went over the young man with their astute gaze. Ah, she remembered what the insignia had been from on his uniform. It was one of the top schools in the area, reserved for only the academically talented or well-connected.

Yeah, she remembered it alright.
 
"Ah~ how mean, Old-san!" Gray eyes squinted with newfound delight at the little sparks and crackles of the woman as she showed some semblance of biting fangs at him; granted it was nothing more than mere words, but still the entertainment value was still there. With every time she so much as snapped or shown something more than that weak-willed weakling that he perceived oozing out from her, the less he could associate her with the disgusting excuse of a human being that he had been before. Worthless, spineless, good for nothing and the greatest sin of all: pathetically hiding behind a paper thin defense that was good manners and false kindness. Yes, that him deserved every little horrid thing that happened to him.

Because he let them step all over himself. So, perhaps Old-san's insults were enjoyable to him now, as harmful as that of a teddy bear being thrown at him, soft and pathetic in the blows that fascinated him so much that he couldn't help but find some sort of sick pleasure in the sparks of anger that ripped through her. For he's suffered far worse rejection than this.

"Careful, Old-san, you're gonna get more wrinkles if you keep frowning like that~ there's no need to ruin your face further!" Another taunt from behind a face that was grinning from ear to ear at her with unrestrained glee, undeterred from her biting responses as it seemed like he was enjoying this instead. Her reply to his comment on posture had made the faintest of twitches to go through him, prompting a giggle to leave his lips, "Haha! Well, I have no intentions to keep looking like this, Old-san~! Hehehe!" Yes, instead of making him genuinely angry, her little quips were instead bringing him a weird sense of joy. Instead gray eyes gleamed mischievously back at her, "..Though if it's bothering you so much, I could just... strip? Would you like that, Old-san? If you want I can let you see every little inch~❤"

The nerve to speak without an ounce of embarrassment at suggesting such a thing had shown the audacity of the crazed boy sitting across from her, though the mischief passed just as quickly as he grinned a goofy smile that silently emanated: Just kidding! Though, his gaze did flicker to the book she had placed at the table from her lap... hmm, she was reading the whole time? That also would have set his mother off-

"Then on the other hand you kinda strike me as someone who comes from a wealthy family."

Crackle. The broad grin upon his face snapped down abruptly, as if all the glee and malicious joy had been sapped out of the teenager as his gray eyes slowly turned upward to face the probing brown. Crack. The eyes regarded her with a thin veil of ice that overcame his features, settled deep into the false embers of laughter and extinguished the joy that had been there. The vulnerable splints in his mind, having not been agitated for three days were beginning to bleed anew at the proding.

"And what of it?" The voice that answered her lacked the sing-song of the tone he had regarded her with, one of his arms resting now on the table, chin settling upon his palm as he tilted his head, his free hand now settling upon the table and tapping a slow beat that mimicked heart beats. "What use will that information be to you, huh, Old-san?" The gray eyes drilled holes in the woman across from him, the expression void of emotion as truly the boy didn't seem like the comical annoyance that he had been before, like sliding out of one skin and into another, the ease in which he was now sitting before her was that of a predator locking onto prey.

"The old me is quite boring," the cold words slipped past as his index finger kept tapping, "Are you sure to want to keep pushing, Old-san?" There was a threat there, obvious in the way he was regarding her now, gray eyes unblinking, the threat laying heavy. She was not welcome to dig through his mind and uncover the distasteful self he had been. "...Don't get too ahead of yourself." The teenager's hand that was tapping had slammed down abruptly on the table, rattling the silverware as he stood to his feet, the cold expression ebbing away bit by bit as twitches and unnatural grinning soon took its place.

"Finish eating, Old-san~! I'll make sure to clean everything after ward!" It was as if that change in him had never happened, so quick to fall back into the annoyingly cheerful persona as he took his empty plate and turned his back on her, humming a disjointed tune that very well reflected whatever disconnected madness that lay in the boy's mind.

His past was off limits. Do not ask about him, do not try to dig.

Do not try to unveil the useless, pathetic person that he used to be.

Do not make him remember his suffering, for he had deemed all of it to be buried with the old him that had to die to allow this new self to flourish.
 
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Ohta Emao
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There it was again, that quick crackle of honesty that tore through the smiling facade and left it fuming in its ashes. Never before had she been more afraid of the ember than the flame, but now she was. You could always skirt around a flame but glowing hot coals? Those were the kind to sear through your flesh, no matter how brief the touch was- and he was seemingly looking to close the distance with the way he shifted forward. Emao paled from the invisible heat that he fanned her way with cinereous eyes and swallowed, dryly as her throat dried up.

“Use? It was just-” An observation she finished in her head as her breath was cut off with a bang. The whole table rattled and so did she. Emao sprung up in a wince that ripped her features apart in stretched shock. Her face resembled a wound up clock, and the echoes of time were slowly passing it by under unmoving clock hands and bated breath. She didn’t dare blink in case the hands would cross the final boundary between them and cement the heat in actual burns-.

He didn’t and started clearing the table as if nothing had happened. The silverware that was the only witness besides herself was removed from the line of evidence. Emao sat frozen still for a few more shellshocked seconds. “Okay.” Then she deflated and squeezed out a feeble wheeze to response. The plate stared half-finished up at her and her stomach lurched at the thought of eating more.

Slowly, she pried herself off the chair and slowly Emao backed away, her eyes watching his back all the way to the other room. Asphyxiation held her hostage until she passed the threshold- and burst out in a gasp that mimicked someone underwater. Heart stuttered to aching life and she sought the wall with trembling limbs. She grappled after traction upon it and then she doubled over.

She had forgotten. Her mind reeled with the images from the kitchen. She had forgotten that he was a killer.

-

Emao rolled over in the bed and cool sheets refracted into even more cool blankets. They bore down in icy soberness over a mind that wouldn’t stop racing, wouldn’t stop glancing at the sliver of light that filtered through the crack in the door. Eeeek. She imagined it creaking open and the soft footfalls of steps that would approach her bedside. Tap, tap, tap. From somewhere else came a murmur of taps like tiny legs that scurried over the boards. Crrk. Crrk. Chitin jaws reproduced the sounds of joints as they shifted in their sockets and leaned over her. Crunch. The foot pressed down upon beetle back and snapped toothpick legs in half.

The body caved next, crushed in on itself by the toes that flattened it into a splatter. His hands shot out to crush the next insect-

It was her.

-
Emao didn’t get an ounce of sleep that night and as much showed on the dark hollows around eyes; mental exhaustion finally manifesting outwardly after the first two stages of denial.
 
The boy after his show of aggressive behavior had conducted himself as normally as possible - well, if his usual state of normalcy was the grinning self that had settled through his next goal for that night; cleansing the grime that had accumulated upon his skin. Even as he took to his task of now cleaning himself after the kitchen had been tended to, his mind kept filtering the terror that had sparked in silly Old-san's eyes as Koto had inspected the shower and by extension the bathroom that seemed to be the only one that was in the room meant for two. Did she think I was going to kill her? The thought filtered through his mind as grinning facial features had turned down into cold apathy as warm water rained down from the shower head, running water being enough to drown out the silence that had settled after the silly woman had retreated to her room for the night.

A hand raised up to rub the back of his neck, lips parting in a slow sigh as his other began to strip himself of the reeking clothes that stuck like glue to his flesh, a grunt of pain filtering past his lips at the little unpleasant twitches and rolling of muscle that had once been restrained, as well as the still healing remnants of ridges upon his skin, pink and red crossed his back, his torso as he clicked his tongue in irritation. He'd almost forgotten about this. Annoying.

The irritation within his expression had ebbed as he stepped within the shower and allowed the water to pound against sore muscles and old wounds, dark red flowing down the drain as his mind drifted back to the woman again. Gray eyes flickered upward to the shower head above him, a small twitching beginning to spring to life upon his apathetic expression. She's so silly~! Weak and pathetic.. hah~ His hand settled upon his own face, a low chuckle leaving him.

It makes me want to tease her more. Old-san is too silly! I wonder... Filters of her red face flickered behind half-lidded eyes, her angry face, and the more terrified face even now. She seemed capable of so many funny expressions that did chase away the bite of cold that settled within him, making giggles swell in his chest. Cute, poor, Old-san! How long will it take this time for her to snap at me? I hope that wasn't the last time she'll be so bold.

Somehow, to the boy now cleansing himself of grime, this revelation of how much he enjoyed the poor woman's expressions was bringing him newfound joy.

Poor Old-san indeed had truly grabbed his attention now.

...
With morning, the boy had already been awake despite having quite the restful night after retreating into the only other room that the woman hadn't taken. Wasn't he so thoughtful? The smell of fresh food once more wafted from the kitchen, a result once more of Koto having gotten up in the early morning hours to harass Otsu for pancake mix, wearing down the woman's defenses by being absolutely obnoxious and leaning on her shoulder, a show of whining and complaining and repeating his unflattering nickname for her that quickly wore down the woman's wall of "Ohta-san is the only one authorized to ask for supplies. Go back to your room", an odd monitor displaying unknown faces including Koto's own of their vital signs, clearly having to monitor them at all times and considering it would be time for her break until later on that day; the woman snapped and gave in if only to be rid of the boy from interrupting her work.

That was at 3 AM.

Now, Koto was in the kitchen, a show of washing pots and pans ringing through the air as he heard shuffling. The boy's heart stopped for a second before unrestrained glee filled him from head to toe as he quickly stopped what he was doing and his head popped out from around the corner in all too energetic fashion, as if he couldn't restrain his utter enthusiasm to see silly Old-san awake, "Good morning, Old-san!!" A toothy, broad grin was on his face, his hair in a messy disarray about his head, fluffy from having been washed. Shirt a tad bit oversized was hanging upon him and simple athletic pants that had been set aside for him as he had raided the closet after showering. In truth, the boy lacked any of the iciness that he had displayed toward her during the night and had settled on enthusiasm... enthusiasm uncharacteristic for the morning, even if it was quite a few hours after him making quite the stack of pancakes that was still resting on the kitchen table, protected by foil.

It almost looked like the boy was that of a enthusiastic puppy that had awaited for their master to awaken. However, upon looking at her face, the boy's head tilted as he took it all in. She hadn't... slept? In fact, the dark hollows around her eyes betrayed that fact, causing the boy's expression to fall into a visible frown. Then came the inevitable tease, "You look like a raccoon, Old-san. Don't tell me... did I scare you that much~?" Sadistic was the grin that now crossed his face as he chuckled, "Sorry, sorry Old-san! Here, go eat something, okay?" The boy disappeared from around the corner, "You need to take care of yourself after all!"

What a thing to say after he had frightened her so much during the night.
 
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Ohta Emao
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A mottle of beige and artificial golden threads delivered morning in the ebb of shadows. It was a pale imitation of the real sky and its rising sun, confined to the space of four walls and a bulb that met brown eyes. They blinked sluggishly, spots of darkness still remaining in static upon bleary pupils, and she studied the shapes of the room as if she had forgotten them during the span of night. A bed, a desk, a closet and an uncharacteristically fluffy carpet made up the surroundings which had hosted her nightmares. Ever so unfamiliar, ever so distant from her own apartment.

It was missing the charm of stickers, posters of different seasonal character themes and plushies displayed as trophies. Devoid of any personality and more similar to a shoebox than her very first rental apartment. Speaking of shoebox…The sudden yearning for windows made her think that the design had intentionally left them out. Emao heaved herself up to a seat between the overlapping shackles of blanket and sheets- they rustled lethargically in return.

It was supposed to motivate them to ‘get out’ of there.

Tangled hair, scruffy clothes and tilting glasses attested further to her sleepless night; more akin to a zombie as she trudged through the hallway than the woman Ohta Emao that she posed as. It was self-imposed, really, but the stubborn mind of a self-acclaimed grown woman wouldn’t admit that out loud. Instead she focused on the gap in the wall ahead that awaited her ominously, a trap set to quickly snatch her up through when she would pass it. Whether it was because of the sudden sweet smell that made her head perk up, or the jangles that rang out from the gap ahead- Emao froze.

Pangs of pots and pans whirred tense remembrance in her nerves and orchestrated up a headache despite how she lingered still in the safety of the hallway. Her breath hitched and the world droned out around her except for the gap where pangs were amplified to blaring. Bzzz. A head suddenly popped out from the rift of nightmare-inducing hallucinations: "Good morning, Old-san!!".

And just like that it all blotted out to the background of a beaming smile- brighter than the bulb in her bedroom and any of the surgical lights that the facility utilized. Emao blinked once, then twice. Was she still dreaming? She bit down on her chapped bottom lip and tore off a piece of skin. The iron tang that met her tongue told her that it was reality. Up went her brows at the comment of resembling a raccoon- Emao had yet to take a look in the mirror so it could very well be the truth. She rubbed her eyes and in the next second, he was gone, sucked in by the happenings in the kitchen once more.

Emao minced her way up to the threshold and watched his back, the very same back that she had imagined hovering above her yesterday. “Y-You cooked again?” Her gaze trailed to the pots and pans on the stove and the foil-covered plate on the table. She wasn’t doing a very good job at ‘taking care’ of him. It was then another thought struck her: What if he decided she wasn’t worth fighting for since she hadn’t done anything for him? “You don’t have to do everything- leave something for me to do as well…” Reluctantly she took her seat at the table, she called it her seat since it was the seat she had chosen yesterday, and refrained from pulling her limbs into any strange position.

Hands rested patiently in her lap for him to join her.
 
"Yes! I felt like I wanted something sweet this morning!" His cheerful tone reverberated with enthusiasm as the boy seemed far too preoccupied with the cleaning of the pots and pans before him until the water would stop as she had spoken up timidly again, "Hmmm?" The smiling face of the teen had turned to look at Emao as she had taken the same spot she had done during the night before, an eyebrow raising at the woman as gray eyes burned with curiosity. Why would she offer such a thing? Was there a reason, or was she simply offering out of fear? Considering her body language now, it was far less relaxed like it had been during the night, reserved and reluctant. She oozed fear, and this amused him just that much more.

It was cute, really. That if she acted meek, if she acted unassuming and tried to make herself as small as possible, that it would discourage him from desiring to kill or threaten her. If he really wanted to kill her, he would have done so already, that much was fact as silence met her words, it didn't seem like he would answer her.

His footsteps patted against the kitchen floor, drawing closer and closer to the table as it seemed like he was simply going to take a seat... but he did not. Instead, Koto rounded the table as he now loomed behind Emao, his body leaning close as the boy's head curiously gazed at her face up close, the thinnest of barriers between them as he did not reach out to touch her, giving her that much reassurance - as small as it was - in the tension that perhaps would be sparked due to the unpredictability of Koto. "...Are you feeling guilty, Old-san?" The question was innocent enough, though quickly took on a more ominous prodding, "Or are you just offering out of fear?" Gray eyes scanned her face closely for the most minuet of twitches or expressions as his hands settled on the chair, a hair's breath away from making contact with the woman's back, and yet he refrained.

"Old-san... you don't have to do something so silly, you know?" Koto's head leaned closer, lips hovering near her ear as he whispered, "You can just reward me for being good, right? Like-" In a flurry of movement, the teenager was now seated on the kitchen floor right next to Emao, his gray eyes sparkling with seemingly harmless intent (far more suspicious if he were being honestly malicious) as he beamed, "Pat my head!" The demand was so utterly ridiculous, so surprisingly innocent, it was hard to believe that the demand ever left the same lips that had spoken and implied such utterly suggestive things just the day before. However, the boy with bright gleaming eyes was now gazing expectantly up at his sponsor and having no intentions of moving, eyes shifting down to her hands which were settled upon her lap and back up to her face.

The situation was certainly... weird, but in truth Koto wasn't really expecting Emao to go through with the action. Instead he was testing her, or rather teasing her. But, the expression on his face betrayed not his intentions and instead remained bright and expectant as he didn't seem like he was going to budge from his position on the floor until his weird request was met.
 

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