Dead Hours — The Fly，第 7 頁
作者：Inkroost · 發布於
文字記錄
Two panels — the beat again, from behind. First, Kaito is frozen mid-motion, one hand raised flat and still, creeping up on the fly from behind, a sweat drop at his temple. KAITO: There. Second, he grabs at the air from behind. The fly is gone again, zipping past his ear. Flat despair crosses his face. KAITO: ...it went backwards.
圖片說明
Kaito freezes creeping up on the fly from behind, whispering 'There,' then grabs at empty air as it escapes past his ear.
關於本章
3 A.M. and the Dead Hours store is spotless — until Kaito spots a single housefly. He decides on the spot that it must be gone by morning, alive: no death on the record on his shift. Rin starts filming "Man vs Fly." The night's regulars each hand him a different, confidently useless folk method — trap it under a cup and a card, approach from behind because flies supposedly can't fly backwards, just wait because it'll die within a day anyway, clap above it because they jump upward to take off, or open a window — and none of them agree. Three times Kaito freezes mid-air, whispers "There," and swipes at nothing. Rin, in a rare unguarded moment, quietly slides the door open a hand's width to let it out, then denies doing it. At last Kaito clamps a cup over the fly in triumph — and lifts it to find nothing underneath; the fly was sitting on the outside of the cup the whole time. At dawn the delivery doors open and the fly drifts out on its own, entirely indifferent to six hours of war — and a second fly drifts in as it goes. Kaito gets his answer and nothing else; Rin got her whole video. The final panel mirrors page one from the same angle, in grey dawn light, the new fly circling under the ceiling speaker.