Characters: Iori, Daisuke, (Miyako)
Word count: 190
Daisuke looks at Iori and thinks that if he was a psychologist (or psychiatrist—it's not like he knows the freaking difference), he would have a field day.
Even Daisuke sees that Iori has some kind of weird complex that involves his every action being dictated by his vague, nearly nonexistant memories of his father. He eats anything put in front of him even if he doesn't like it because his dad told him to. His father told him to respect everybody so now he can't break a single rule, can't tell a lie, can't do this, can't do that—this all just plain disturbs Daisuke.
Iori's unwavering devotion to his deceased dad would be kind of impressive if it wasn't so freaking morbid.
"Hey Iori, do you know what your father's least favorite color was?"
Daisuke doesn't ask how Iori knows this weird tidbit of information, and then later tells Miyako to buy Iori a red shirt for his birthday. Start small and work your way up, he supposes. God bless Hiroki--Daisuke is sure he was great and everything--but Iori needs to live a little.