[ Nishitani scratches out Kizakura's "Private," promptly writing Fuck your private. He doesn't even bother to continue his conversation for a moment, instead he squeezes Kizakura's wrist even harder, pinning his hand to the ground. (He did stab the knife into the ground, too. He's only got so many hands.) ]
Ya think I give a shit about dyin', pal? I'm already dead. Only reason I ain't fuckin' done that shit yet is cause Majima's been holdin' me back.
[ He grins. He kind of likes Kizakura's idea, actually. He shifts his hold to Kizakura's palm, squeezing all the tiny bones together. ]
Yer the fuckin' spy. I've killed some of my own damn men fer less than the shit you did. Yer life's worth less than shit ta me or anybody else here. Shit, I'd fuckin' confess ta gettin' rid of ya. Even if it meant gettin' torn ta bits, I'll do it, pal.
[ He, uh, he sure doesn't look like he's joking. But he does take the time to write on the notebook again. ]
no subject
Ya think I give a shit about dyin', pal? I'm already dead. Only reason I ain't fuckin' done that shit yet is cause Majima's been holdin' me back.
[ He grins. He kind of likes Kizakura's idea, actually. He shifts his hold to Kizakura's palm, squeezing all the tiny bones together. ]
Yer the fuckin' spy. I've killed some of my own damn men fer less than the shit you did. Yer life's worth less than shit ta me or anybody else here. Shit, I'd fuckin' confess ta gettin' rid of ya. Even if it meant gettin' torn ta bits, I'll do it, pal.
[ He, uh, he sure doesn't look like he's joking. But he does take the time to write on the notebook again. ]
Tell me.