In the open air, you could hear the sirens ringing out.
Sirens of all kinds. Police, Firemen, Evac, Bomb squad, warning sirens, perhaps even an actual live siren screaming at the actions that had occurred just moments before.
The Beika Hotel fell to its ruin, as the fourth bomb went off within the last 20 minutes, the roads to and from littered with a flea-horde of people, staggering against each other to witness what had occurred. As everyone turned their sights to the ruin, no one saw the silver-haired devil clad in black from head to toe uncaringly waltzing away as if he hadn't a care in the world.
Well he didn't at the moment. He'd just finished taking care of what was poisoning and corrupting his otherwise peaceful vision of mindfulness. As one might expect, the story of the hotel being blown to bits landed on every news story in all of Japan. If it hadn't, he'd been content never sparing another thought for the person who hurt one very near Gins… not heart, but core of emotion.
A key clicked into place, and he stepped inside, his shoes brushing against the mat to scrape off any underlying dirt, his hat hung upon a rack, and lastly his coat adorning their… less than trendy, coatrack. From the living room, he heard the object of his affection clearing his throat to what one might seem as coincidental, were it not for the fact that both parties knew who this silver-haired devil truly was.
A man of few morals, and even fewer words if it could be cleared with actions.
"I saw the news. I assume, no, let me rephrase, I hope you had nothing to do with the bombings." His shoes clacked against the wooden floor, catching a glimpse of the TV newscaster speak of the building he'd just left prior to the bombings, and how over 30 people lost their lives in this tragic accident. For him, it meant nothing. Empathy was meaningless for people he didn't care about.
"I know you make a habit of hoping for the hopeless, but even you must realize how stupid that would be in this case." He moved towards the kitchen instead, the living room seeming less than interesting at the moment. A barrage of curse words was thrown his way, along with some rather expensive glassware if he had to be honest which annoyed him more than the stupid beanie on his lovers' head.
"You can't go blowing up buildings because someone tries to pick me up Gin! People have died!" The angry face on his lovers face didn't deter him much though. Leaning in to kiss his lips softly, claiming them as his he whispers out as calmly as he can, a hushed whisper at most.
"That's what people do, and I will kill anyone who tries to impeach on what's rightfully mine."
Shuichi had a hard time arguing against Gin when he was like this. Not for lack of trying, rather, the knowledge that it wouldn't matter to Gin in the least. So it was easier to succumb. When Gin spoke to him, of him, with him, in such a feverish and animalistic sense, there was no way he could fight back. It wasn't the right thing to do.
But Gods, who knew that being wrong could feel so good?