As they arrived home, Akemi expressed her desire to clean her body. It was pretty fun, but exhausting day for a teenager, mainly because of how hot the day was...
"I'm going to take a bath... I need to wash off all the sand and feel fresh and beautiful for tomorrow!"
"Fine, but make it quick. I don't want to be waiting around all night." He said plainly, already planning how to spend his time efficiently.
Just then, Hideaki chimed in, "I wanted to clean myself too!"
"Then you'll wait your turn," Seiji replied, his voice matter-of-fact.
"You can wash together since you're both guys, and I'm the only girl here." Akemi said.
Seiji exchanged a quick, unimpressed glance with Hideaki before replying dryly, "That's not happening. I'd rather not."
"Hmpf! I'm not going to do it either!" he huffed. "So make it quick with washing yourself when it'll be your turn!"
Seiji raised an eyebrow, unfazed by Hideaki's outburst. "Fine, fine Mr. Impatient. Now relax, no one's making you do anything. Just wait your turn." His tone was detached, though he couldn't resist adding a playful jab, "Besides, I wouldn't want you to traumatize me more than you already did."
***
As Seiji leaned against the wall, his mind wandered through various scenarios. He was meticulously cataloging potential solutions to Hideaki's issues, analyzing the logistics of helping a serial killer without drawing attention, while trying to understand Hideaki's erratic behavior.
'There's no easy fix to this. He needs help, but his violent tendencies... how do I even begin? Therapy's out of the question - the risk is too high. Maybe I could keep him in isolation longer, but he'd grow restless. He's already unpredictable. And then there's the guilt... If I had handled things better before-'
His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud rumbling noise.
Seiji blinked, turning toward Hideaki, who now sat leaning against the wall. Hideaki's stomach growled again, louder this time.
He stared at Hideaki, who was trying (and failing) to hide his embarrassment behind his hair. Seiji let out a small sigh. "Don't tell me you're still hungry."
"Tch!" Hideaki hissed from embarrassment "N-no! It's not like I want to eat something sweet or anything..." he tried to deny the sudden need of consuming food, but Seiji had gotten used to when Hideaki was pretending and when he wasn't...
Seiji sighed, clearly unconvinced. "I can tell when you're lying. But honestly, where do you even put all that food? The dinner was huge."
Hideaki grew even more embarrassed "Shut up! Just tell me if you have something to eat, you moron!"
Seiji got up and headed to the kitchen, scanning his shelves. "You're out of luck. Nothing suitable for a snack," he called out calmly.
Suddenly, Hideaki appeared behind him, "You better have some cinnamon rolls stashed away somewhere..." he muttered impatiently.
Seiji glanced back at him, more amused than annoyed. "Sorry, Mr. Sweet-Eater, but this isn't a bakery. Shelves are empty."
"Huh!?" Hideaki burst out in frustration.
"I'm not lying," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Even if I had something, it's not here now. You'll have to wait till tomorrow."
"Can't you just make them!?"
"Not without ingredients, genius."
"Tch! Dammit!" Hideaki grumbled, sulking by the bathroom door.
"You'll live," Seiji added coolly, sitting back down. "But don't worry, I'm sure the craving will pass."
YOU ARE READING
Everyday Life with a Murderer
ActionA adult Japanese man, Seiji Sekiguchi was devastated by his life. During one rainy evening, he went to the rooftop of a building to commit suicide. Unexpectedly, on his way he meets a man, who apparently wants to kill him. Prepared for certain death...
