Hirakawa Fumi chuckled dryly and fell silent, feeling a bit like leaving, but not wanting to pass up such excellent material for his paper, he shamelessly lingered on. Nanahara Takeshi, however, paid him no mind—there was never any conflict between them. He turned his attention to the diary in front of him, mouthing silently and motioning with his "eyes" for Liuli to get to work.
Kiyomi Liuli also put on white gloves and began carefully turning the pages of the thick, hardcover notebook—it must have been buried for about six or seven years now, yet the box had been well-sealed, and the paper hadn't decayed as flesh would, although there was a bit of dampness. Handling it with care shouldn't pose too much of a problem.
