"Tell me, Kirihara. How long have you been on the force? You've already seemed to have accumulated your own radical ideas on the justice system."
November regards his cigarette casually. He is undeterred by her prickly stare. They are, in so many words, both aware that he is questioning her morals; her beliefs as an upstanding officer. He takes an empty drag and lightly engages the reflexive curiosity of passersby. He is content.
There is honesty in his handsomeness. Practicality. His features hold an aesthetically pleasing normalcy that is slightly diluted by his filthy habit. But it cannot be helped. Least he suffer a fate far worse than cosmetic marring, November must smoke. He will probably die burning his last cigarette.
"I've been a police officer long enough to know what's what, November. Clearly you have trouble distinguishing that. I don't have to explain myself to you." Her eyes dance over him with blatant disgust. She is more fixated with his smoking rather than his actual presence. He smiles, takes a final drags, and snubs out the better half of his device.
"Ever been to a press conference?" There is a moment where he must pause to clear his throat. "They eat you alive during those things. Quite a few cynics out there, if you know what I mean. Have a tendency to…twist your words. Make the public view them in a darker light."
Kirihara is not amused. "That is called slander. Here in Japan, we have laws to fight it."
November chuckles. "Slander isn't turning your own words against you. That's just called being clever. In any case, you have laws to fight many things. If all of them actually worked, I wouldn't be here right now…now would I?"
Misaki withholds a scoff. "Clever, are we November?"
"Wouldn't be me without it, love. Now how about that coffee? Feeling inclined to share?"
The corner of her lip twitches.
