More Chie and Adachi. I don't know what I was on when I was writing this one.

WARNING: I have no idea if this one pushes that T rating a bit far, since I'm not really describing anything, but if I need to change the rating, please tell me.

AGAIN, THIS ONE'S A BIT DARK...ER.

Business

She was supposed to be here on business. Official police business. And yet as soon as she had walked into his apartment, she was on him like a rapid animal. He had tussled with her, if only to ensure his place on top, and it bothered her that she hadn't fought back as much as she wanted to. And now he was touching places and she was suffocating, with no place to go but deeper into herself, where everything was trying to break free of the chains she had put them in. She had told him through angry, gritted teeth that she hated him, and he had laughed mercilessly as he told her to just imagine it was Souji Seta, and not Tohru Adachi. And as her mind kept trying to picture Souji's smiling face and gentle strokes, everything contradicted too much. The fantasy wasn't mixing right with the reality. And so she gave up on pretending, and just cried as she realized deep down that she was so damn happy. She was so disgusted with herself for being this relieved that someone, it didn't matter who, was doing this to her, with her, whatever this was.

She laid there and cried, because she didn't ever want it to be anyone other than Souji, and most especially not him. But she was desperate for some open attention from the opposite gender, the way all the boys she knew seemed to be with Yukiko and Rise and even Naoto. If anyone cared for her, they didn't show it good enough. Beggars couldn't be choosers. And she was surely a beggar in this respect. And still she could feel deep down, her monster was being satiated, and no matter how disgusting she felt, or how awful she felt that she was betraying everyone's trust, she was so happy. So happy she could die.

Even after he was finished, he kept telling her the most beautiful, eloquent lies she's ever heard, complimenting her more and more in a sickly sweet tone as they just laid on his cold, hard, wooden floor. "You know, some people like girls who are soft and supple under the fingertips. But your structure is much better suited for the rough stuff. I mean, damn. Your muscle tone better accentuates everything." It was filthy, what he was saying, and he was saying it so kindly, as if he was actually the person they'd all thought him to be. But something carnal in her appreciated it. She didn't believe any of it either. He was saying it only to mock her, and all those times she had said she was better than him and all the times where she had thought he was lowly and disgusting for what he'd done were all coming back to haunt her as she lie next to him with her shorts down.

She sat up, pulled on all clothing that had been previously discarded, and checked the apartment for dangerous items, as was her job. He watched her as she did this dull task, taunting her by pointing out places she'd missed checking. He was probably feeling really great about himself and how much better and more of a person than she was, but she didn't care. She just wanted to leave now. She had gotten what she'd really come here for. She checked his bedroom, ignoring the fact that his smell of cheap cologne and deodorant and something else was thickest in here.

When she came back, he was back on his couch, like nothing had happened. He was giving her one of those smiles that he used to wear before he became the hated person he was, back when he was a cop. It was dopey and nonchalantly whimsical, and she wanted to smack him for being such an outright liar.

He had never removed his pants. He never needed to. She was done before he even got him belt unbuckled. She never seemed to realize this fact until after everything had been finished. She knew he didn't need anything from her. He wasn't only in it to mock her and torture her mentally, but sometimes she wished some drop of kindness really felt for her plight. It was her own little fantasy in her dark, dark world. Because she obviously needed him for this disgusting, shameless act, and he probably feels a lot better about himself in comparison to her while doing whatever it is he does to her.

"Same time next week, right Chie?" His voice was so real and sweet, she'd be a fool to believe whatever genuine kindness she'd heard from it.

She left, her walls of insecurity crumbling and rebuilding themselves in a constant loop of confused feelings of hatred, lust, and shame.