Reizo watched it all with the same shameless and unabashed interest that'd kept rubberneckers ut and about through the ages. Really, he was just waiting for Oubai to run off at the mouth and get slapped. Then one of them would probably run off crying. He had money on Kou for that bit.
He shifted on his seat, frowning just a bit at the way the sill bit into his bottom, and tossed the used candy wrapper onto the floor before he hunched forward and adapted a posture that suggested that he’d be watching this to the end.
His eyes jumped from player to player, lingering on the primary two. He was almost impressed with Kondo. She wasn’t wibbling, or breaking down. Maybe it was all an act and after she got some time alone it’d all boil over and there’d be snot and tears, but right now all there seemed to be was righteous, indignant anger.
Oubai had lost it. He kept trying to scrabble back to dignity, but the haughty bastard had fallen so far it was almost impossible to get back onto his high horse. Not that he wouldn’t try. The huge boy frowned, and grumbled dejectedly. The best part of Kou’s breakdown would be later on, he was sure, when he was trying to justify it all to himself and pretend he hadn’t let his emotions get the better of him.
… Maybe he kept a diary?
“Well, I have been called a beast before,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and grinning almost bashfully.