The Sergeant's deadline is tonight. An offer to get in contact with people you know, yet also a threat. Given how fed up he was, it's unlikely he's joking about the kind of cruelty he's willing to go through for the sake of getting what he wants.
That's why it may not be so surprising that, early in Friday morning, there's this air of tension, despite the bright sun in the sky. It doesn't help that a firetruck and a couple patrolcars race through the streets, passing in front of the motel and going west. The reason why is clear after a single glance:
There's a thick column of black smoke emanating from somewhere inside the Junkyard.
[ dazai's voice does its job to redirect oda's attention. he still looks unfocused, like he's chasing after something else, but no longer with as much desperation.
he nods. he can't fail dazai now, after all he's done for him. ]
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no subject
but it's fine. this is fine. he's fine. ]
no subject
[Don't zone out on him now.]
Don't forget you're my partner. I won't forgive you if you slack off on me.
[Trying to keep it light despite the fact that they both know-- this is very serious.]
...we need to investigate.
no subject
[ dazai's voice does its job to redirect oda's attention. he still looks unfocused, like he's chasing after something else, but no longer with as much desperation.
he nods. he can't fail dazai now, after all he's done for him. ]
I understand. What do you want me to do?
no subject
That's the first place to go to help us find our killer.