It's A Hunger

It starts with innocent flirting at first. When you initially arrive in Inaba, he puts on his façade to fool you, just as always with the newbies that enter the town. However, he swiftly notices the difference about you and takes a closer step with you, inviting you out to dinner one night. It is not much – only a beef bowl at the Chinese Diner, but when you smile at him, he smirks to himself and thinks that maybe he will not have to kill this one.

Then you begin to notice little things about him too. At first, it is nothing – just minor inconveniences, like how he says he is going out drinking with Dojima, but the older man had talked to you previously and told you how he and his family were taking an outing for summer break. You let it slide, shrugging it off as Adachi wanting time on his own – just like every other man.

Then you witness the midnight channel, and he catches you watching. You question him frantically about it, shooting off a million questions a minute at him so fast that he can barely comprehend – but he reluctantly answers, though only with half-truths and lies of omission.

You immediately notice it, even though he believes you do not. That is the thing about him that you dislike – his misogynistic attitude. He always believes he is smarter than you are, so imagine his surprise when you approach him one evening after work. It is a lovely evening in Inaba, and you spend the day outside, drinking a dainty alcoholic drink as you await his pending arrival.

When the doors slide open, his brow rises in surprise to see you sitting casually on the couch, stroking a revolver almost reverently. You smile upon seeing him, and his hand instinctively falls upon his own gun on his side.

"Darling?" he calls you. You loves the names he gives you. "What's going on?"

You contemplate your actions carefully, that gentle smile still upon your lips dangerously. "Oh my love," you croon softly. "I do believe you have been hiding things from me and I do not appreciate that."

His lips quickly form a scowl at your attitude. He always dislikes when you challenges him – a part of misanthropy, but you stand and caress his face with the barrel of the gun. The silver glints in the dim lighting of your apartment, and you watch your lover tense and his eyes tighten. "I'm not hiding anything from you," he says, placating. "Not that it would be your business regardless." His eyes are hard as you stare into the stormy grey, and you give a soft chuckle.

"Oh sweetheart," you croon again, your lips brushing against his ear. "We both know that that is a fucking lie."

Quick as a strike of lightning, he pulls his own pistol out of his police belt, holding it calmly against your temple. Your own revolver had moved to underneath his chin, caressing the skin like a soft kiss. You both stare at one another calculatingly – he bearing a frown and you smiling genially.

"Why would I even tell you, my love?" he whispers to you, cocking his head slightly with a daring smile on his lips. "If I were involved in something and hiding it from you, what makes you think that you deserve to know it?"

You laugh softly – a malevolent sound. "Oh my love," you sigh almost sadly. "Whenever will you begin to trust me?" You peer at him with imploring eyes, and he forces his eyes away from the weight of your gaze. "Are you involved with the string of murders, mayhaps?" you question lightly, and you carefully watch him, scrutinizing his actions.

He tenses ever so slightly around his eyes, and you know you hit the nail on the target. As you open your mouth to speak again, he cocks the gun and smiles at you unthreateningly – a complete irony to the situation.

"You should have just held your tongue, my love," he murmurs in your ear, and you shiver as the pistol presses harder to your temple. "So say that I am the murderer – what are you going to do?" He smiles in a condescending manner. "Call the police?" His smile turns mocking, taunting you further, paired with a hateful look in his eyes.

You glare at him lightly, shaking your head. "Never," you whisper, and his eyes narrow dangerously. "I figure that you would know that about me by now, love." You now have a sneer of your own on your lips.

Adachi snarls at you, and you press the revolver to his throat harder to warn him of your own limits. "You don't frighten me, sweetheart – you never have," he bites out, but hesitates afterward. "However…"

He reaches in his pocket, and you cocks your own gun threateningly. He smirks at your behavior, and he thinks of how fucking attractive you are when you are threatening to kill him. "It would be mighty unfortunate if the police were to uncover this information…" he trails off the words, leaving them hanging heavily in the air.

You snatch it from his hand, and slowly you lower your revolver from his throat as he removes his own from your temple. You place it on the floor and kick it away; he follows your example. You read what he gave you – it was a threatening letter, written to a victim. Or so it appeared. You glances at him, and give no outward sign of surprise when you see his stormy grey eyes have a yellowish tint behind them. "What is this?" you whisper, barely audible – but he hears you. He always does.

Adachi's lips widen mirthfully. "You see, the killer wrote that and sent it to Dojima's nephew… I was supposed to give it to the forensics department, but it sort of slipped my mind." He is laughing sheepishly, but by the look in his eyes, you know it is the complete opposite. "It could be a major turning point in the case if they were to get this…" he leaves the words hanging.

You stare into his eyes, feeling the sheer dominance behind his own stare. Holding the letter tightly, you walk over to the fireplace and toss the paper into the awaiting flames, watching it shrivel and burn with no emotion.

The silence breaks abruptly by Adachi's manic laughter, startling you. He is clutching his stomach as he bends over, staring at you with disbelief and what looked like possessive pride. "You know that's a crime right!?" he laughs still, shaking his head. "I could turn you in for that!" His laughter comes to a halt slowly, and he approaches you like a predator. You stay still, even when he tilts your chin up and stares into your eyes.

"I guess this makes you an accomplice to the murderer, huh?" he asks mirthfully, and you smirk up at him with a nod of your head. He chuckles once more – darkly – and his lips brush against your ear. "Hello, partner," he whispers, turning to looking in your eyes before claiming your lips possessively in a kiss.