The door slid open and a faint scent of blood wafted in the air. Kogami was familiar with the rotten, metallic scent but with it came red mist and amorphous globs that were once living human beings. This, however, originated from one Touma Kouzaburo. He narrowed his eyes as he approached the man who seemed to be nonchalantly sketching something. There was a quality to the literature teacher’s delighted smile that brought dread to the disguised inspector. For a while, neither of them talked until Touma spoke first, quoting from Kurt Vonnegut, one that made Kogami’s muscles tense in a defensive manner.
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be,” the fellow teacher said, permitting a painful silence to enter the premise.
For a while, the inspector had assumed his cover was blown or perhaps they figured it out a long time ago but played ignorance for the hell of it—a game, if you will. Kogami couldn’t remember why he was in the art room in the first place. He had no reason to be here and he could probably be doing something better than treading dangerous waters filled to the brim with sharp teeth. It was then Kogami’s turn to revive their talk and so he did without noticing it himself. Their conversation canvassed topics from daily life, philosophy, literature, and it soon became an intellectual debate that would have been near-impossible to keep up with: neither of them missed a single beat.
The setting sun painted the red sky and marked the end of their long debate with Touma gathering his belongings and Kogami standing as if he were waiting. Blood invaded his senses and he didn’t even notice his hand grabbing Touma’s shoulder, the other turning the rather effeminate face up, and his lips crashing into Touma’s in a sloppy rather innocent manner, the act carrying the behavior of something like an awkward first kiss. The psychology teacher was the first to pull away and upon realizing his transgression, he hastily excuse himself and ran out of the classroom without another moment’s notice.