BASTARD AS A BLADE, FATHER AS A WHETSTONE; they were not so much as undying as they were death’s carriers / carrion / carnage, @senringan the model and he the mimic ------------ Yoshida, Hirofumi : an understudy in his violence. And yet, there were moments even they could play at normality, summon up a belief in the other’s reliability. Devil Hunters had to become talented actors. It was known. None of them could live among humans otherwise.
But this was not a meeting for half-hearted interest in the other’s lives. This was business (just how he preferred it; emotions had never been easy, digesting tedious and playing pretend tiring, more a chore than homework). There are some upsides to their conversations now, however. For one, they could finally speak without the task of checking for rats beforehand. That was a habit he would be glad to be free of, if the whisperings of the Public Safety facilities were to be trusted. There was only man to verify such tales, a man now conveniently sitting beside him.
❝ So? Can I listen to ‘Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead’ yet? ❞
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