he’s told makoto in the past that he doesn’t stay at his room very often—is he inviting him to the room of someone else who’s been putting him up? if that’s the case, he isn’t sure he’d be comfortable with that… it gives him a bizarre feeling of imposing, especially if it’s someone he doesn’t know (and possibly worse if it’s someone he does know?). but if there’s anyone in the golden peacock who has earned makoto’s benefit of the doubt, it’s kazuya. ultimately he doesn’t even reply; he gathers what meager things he was able to salvage from his room before it completely filled with water, and he goes up the stairs.
he doesn’t have to go up that many floors. kirma’s room is on the floor hosting the tens and nines, so he passes the floor for aces and jacks before arriving… at where the kings and queens stay. makoto’s expression grows more and more uncertain as he walks down the hallway, eventually arriving in front of the door with the number that kazuya had given him. it’s massive, extravagant—he’s vaguely reminded of the grandiosity of the architecture in datenshou’s brothel.
he reaches out to rap his knuckles against the door, weirdly nervous. he’s never been up here in the penthouses before. what if it isn’t even his room? what if he is punking him? he knows they’re baseless accusations that a wounded, mistrustful part of himself hurls out from the dark at the pit of his chest, but they still bob up to his consciousness regardless. he forcibly shoves them aside as he waits, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. )
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he’s told makoto in the past that he doesn’t stay at his room very often—is he inviting him to the room of someone else who’s been putting him up? if that’s the case, he isn’t sure he’d be comfortable with that… it gives him a bizarre feeling of imposing, especially if it’s someone he doesn’t know (and possibly worse if it’s someone he does know?). but if there’s anyone in the golden peacock who has earned makoto’s benefit of the doubt, it’s kazuya. ultimately he doesn’t even reply; he gathers what meager things he was able to salvage from his room before it completely filled with water, and he goes up the stairs.
he doesn’t have to go up that many floors. kirma’s room is on the floor hosting the tens and nines, so he passes the floor for aces and jacks before arriving… at where the kings and queens stay. makoto’s expression grows more and more uncertain as he walks down the hallway, eventually arriving in front of the door with the number that kazuya had given him. it’s massive, extravagant—he’s vaguely reminded of the grandiosity of the architecture in datenshou’s brothel.
he reaches out to rap his knuckles against the door, weirdly nervous. he’s never been up here in the penthouses before. what if it isn’t even his room? what if he is punking him? he knows they’re baseless accusations that a wounded, mistrustful part of himself hurls out from the dark at the pit of his chest, but they still bob up to his consciousness regardless. he forcibly shoves them aside as he waits, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. )