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Or maybe he got tired of the rumors.” Teruo placed his elbows on the table, clasping his fingers. “Rumors?” Megumi glanced over her shoulder as if someone would barge in and listen to the biggest secret in the TMPD, then whispered, “Seems his superior officer ended up dead on their last case. She was murdered by someone whom Miyazaki knew, but he wasn’t even a suspect or questioned and nothing went on his record.”
Hayashi clicked his tongue. “You got new hires, too.” She turned to the woman and man on her left. “This is Kojima.” The woman bowed, smiling.
She looks like Kojima Haruna. My brain has already made the connection. You can't tell me otherwise.
Shinji plucked the marker from the holder and wrote at the top of the whiteboard in capital letters: THE RED COLLAR
He did it. He wrote the thing.
“Rough night?” Teruo asked. He opened the window and lit a cigarette, breathing out the smoke into the chilled autumn air. Miyazaki nodded. “Yeah, I woke up a few times and couldn’t fall back asleep.” “Ah. I thought maybe you went out with friends.” Raising his head from the files, Miyazaki looked at Teruo curiously. “I don’t have any friends here, sir. I just moved to the capital yesterday.”
Teruo is such an asshole. I get the feeling that I'm going to love to hate him.
At home, he could be himself, but what was the point if he had no one here to really see him?
not the dumbest thing I've ever read, but this sounds like some "relationships are life's goal" shit.Not here for it.
He tasted of coffee and Shinji ground his groin with a needy moan.
Don't forget cigarettes. Copious amount of cigarettes.
“I’m not going to pay a hotel when I have a perfectly fine house with a comfortable bed to fuck on,” Teruo continued. “I didn’t mean to impose, that’s why I said a hotel.” After a beat, Teruo looked at him. “Tonight?”
