[ Murmuring his agreement, that seems to be as good of an explanation as any. If it wasn't for the deluge of things this week he probably could have shrugged it off like he has been doing. This is probably a point on why talking about things with someone is well, important—but he's doing that now isn't he? ]
Yeah. It's like death and me are very...contrary. When I want it, it runs away from me. When I don't, it chases me down relentlessly. I fought against the Shiki for weeks basically on my own, I wasn't going to let myself die in that village no matter what. If I had to kill someone, desecrate a corpse, steal money, lie to my family, I didn't care. I was sure there was nothing that could stop me. But when the time came down to it, and death finally came to me I—I just accepted it. If it had been anyone else I could have...
[ Cupping his palm over his eyes, he no longer wants to see the stars. Not when all he can see right now is a sky of white flowers. ]
I failed. I gave up, just like she did. I was okay with dying if it was at Tohru's hands. [ Like a random drop of rain, the name just falls off his lips. He adds the actual answer to the question as an afterthought, a feeble attempt at a coverup. ]
But death was...it wasn't bad. I think I was content.
[Anon is still watching out of the corner of his eye, slowly absorbing everything -- they talk about death a lot for people their age, but it's something that seems to follow Natsuno in many forms and now the both of them, slinking around the mansion like a wolf with too many teeth, faceless and voiceless and dogging the steps of every single thing that walks there.
Battling for survival is nowhere near anything new, but understanding someone else's for a reason other than using it against them? That's new, some part of him understands, though not in so many words.
So when Natsuno covers his eyes, Anon shifts just a little -- bumps his shoulder up against his, briefly. A shove, a prod, something like an instinctual response. His instincts are still very good, even smothered under a Witch's veil.]
I knew you had the potential to really fight. It's easy to see that in somebody, in the first minute, or the first second.
But... [he taps a finger at his temple] The psychological advantages are the most dangerous ones, because it bypasses your ability to even start to fight back. It changes you in ways that even our abilities can't. It's the kind we try to guard against the most.
[There's something a bit clumsy about it, the way he tries to relate it to what he knows. There's another little silence there, as though he might be aware of that, but--]
[ Natsuno starts at the touch, letting his hand fall back to his side. There's no thanks just a breathy exhale, but he's clearly more rooted in the present than he was before. ]
Yeah. He was my-my best friend. The Shiki got him pretty early—he was always inviting everyone over to his house and he had no shortage of friends. But he put up with me even if his other friends hated me. [ There's a clear understanding here that Natsuno knows he's not easy to be around, as he's stated before. He's blunt, opinionated, and doesn't interact with others unless he has a reason. So he comprehends Anon's words all too well in a different way. Feelings are dangerous. ]
Dying to him...I was okay with. Even if I was angry, I accepted all his excuses anyway. Somehow I knew I would never escape that village and it was easier to just sleep. I guess it was kind of selfish of me too, but I had written my parents off for a while by then.
But then I didn't die. I didn't die, and I was still really, really angry.
You didn't die, and you escaped the village, and I guess you're still pretty angry, huh.
[It's more of a soft murmur than anything, background noise like the waves in the distance as things settle in, though Anon does say it anyway -- half to himself and half to Natsuno. There's a brief sigh as he glances over at him again, thoughtful.]
He could kind of think outside their boxes, couldn't he? Tohru.
[That's actually all the commentary he offers for a little while, letting the silence go.]
Yeah, when I remember. Or when it keeps getting shoved in my face. [ Strangely it hasn't really come up until now, but Natsuno has a terrible temper. Most of the time it's the salt and resentment that seeps through, but his anger is the most dangerous thing.
Meeting that look this time he smiles bitterly. ]
I thought he did. But I was wrong. When I came back, when he saw me again—all he cared about was that he didn't have to be guilty anymore. His apologies, his pity, his tears...they were for him not me. He did this stupid thing where he left a white flower each night outside my window for an entire week as penance or something. I hated it and I hated him for being like everyone else in the end.
Nirrti would probably be happy about that. Even if we're rifling through her stuff.
[It's just idle commentary, as he looks back at him.
If Natsuno has a terrible temper, then Anon's is an absolutely unknown value -- he hasn't come anywhere near getting serious in this Game of theirs, even if Nirrti keeps upping the ante. It's exciting, but he's still watching and learning; there will be time, surely. There's no telling what would happen if you riled both of these two at once, though. Worlds have probably been ended for less.
There's something oddly comforting in all of that.]
Ah. So that's why you didn't have any white in your bouquets. He didn't want to take proper responsibility for what he did, or commit to it, did he? If he was going to kill you, he should at least do it wholeheartedly.
Dying for something half-baked is what makes vengeful ghosts.
[ Nirrti probably would, which only irritates Natsuno even more. His undeath had chained him to his past, just like he had been chained to Sotoba. That was something he had accepted, something he had been fine with, but if he really was going to play for real, to accept who he was now...
Somehow despite it all, he lets out a short laugh. It's not truly joyful, nor is it bitter—it just is. He's been doing a lot of that lately, when they're together. ]
So I'm a half-baked jinrou ghost, hn? That's almost as long as my name. [ That's soft, a touch amused. And then he speaks again, his words heavy and weighted like freshly poured concrete. ]
He didn't want to do it properly, yeah. But I never made my end with him properly either. I think I want to, I have to if I'm going to find that third path.
[His mouth lifts in a half-smile at the sound of Natsuno's laughter. That, too, is a sort of instinctual reaction. It's strange how it's become familiar, too, like the ocean he's barely ever seen before this.
He knows the sound of his own laughter -- less so anyone else's.]
It's not the ghost that's half-baked.
[He lets the moment slide down with the weight of what comes next, though, shifting to it easily the way he always does -- easily as breathing, moving from the shape of one moment to the next. It's almost always easy for him.]
I want to kill him, but he's already dead. [ Naked and bare, that's a truth that's been beneath the surface all along. He pauses to brush his bangs out of his eyes even though they fall back into place a moment later. ]
He was my spy. When we bite people, beyond the venom, we can give them a command. It's not something the bitten can ignore, and it works on other undead too. That's how I knew where to find the leaders, and where the Shiki were hiding. I made him tell me everything. But there wasn't a point in killing him then—not when he could continue to be useful.
In the end, he burned somewhere like half of the other Shiki. I never got my chance, it's too late. But I guess... I could give him the same goodbye he gave me. That's fitting, I think.
[He's just throwing that out there, letting the weight of the rest sink in.
Using people is nothing new to him -- it doesn't even bear the same significance as it does to Natsuno, all things considered, all of the things that have been scattered on this rooftop now are saying. He turns it over the way he turned over the initial thing -- dying to Tohru, turning it around on Tohru, turning around Tohru like a moth around a lamp.]
But it's the only way to be sure, right?
[Tohru isn't Shimizu, but the same principle applies in some part, he thinks.]
Ha, maybe. [ Is he, really? Sometimes he gets lost in that too, but that's a philosophical crisis for another night. One he may even look forward to innately—he's kind of gotten used to talks like these. ]
Yeah, it's the only way to be sure. [ A shrug and a thin smile, this time devoid of bitterness. ] With flowers, I mean. I still have all the white ones from the bunches Tateyama gave me.
Mhmm. But more than one a day, I think. It's been a while since I saw him so it would be a lot of flowers and—I don't want to think about him anymore. [ Better to do it all at once, or he might lose his nerve somewhere along the way. For as resolute as he sounds now, if he closes his eyes he can still hear the way Tohru yelled "Natsuno-chan" over and over in his head. ]
If you've already been saying goodbye to him for so long, then really saying goodbye should be short. You really just need enough flowers. We can get more if you want.
[Honestly, if you let Anon help he would happily pick everything white on the island, he doesn't mind scavenger hunts like this. He doesn't move, though -- it would take forever to get off the roof, anyway, so he waits for Natsuno, humming a little.]
[ Does Tohru deserve that many flowers? There's an "mn" of agreement that it should be short, he's already spent so much effort on this goodbye already. Natsuno really doesn't want to spend anymore, he just wants it to be done with. And he really doesn't want to move right now either. ]
It really wasn't that awful of a place to sleep. I've slept in a few places like that now here. [ Yawning a bit he stretches out against the hard floor of the roof. Any brushing here might be coincidental—he can't help that he's a lanky teenager. ]
Maybe I'll sleep here too. [ Nevermind that he sounds perfectly awake (and amused), he has one bright red eye open too, gaze tilted to the side at the infernal. ]
I think here is definitely better. The stars and the sea are way clearer.
[Anon stretches in response, like transferring yawns or something -- shifts just a little closer, like an automatic response to the gravity of the Earth, except the Earth is all the way below them and there's nothing else around them for the widest expanse of the grounds and the forest.
He meets Natsuno's glance with one of his own, red to red and about equally as serious. There's a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth, but with him, there always is.]
We can't even see the sea from here. [ Yes that sounds stupid and no Natsuno makes zero effort to move despite his valid argument. Or to be more accurate, he makes no effort to move to actually get a better view. What he does do is open both eyes and roll over onto his side, so now all he has is a view of red and pink. The even closer proximity is a side effect he doesn't even think about of illustrating his point. Probably because if he tried, he couldn't. He can't fight the shadow of a smile either, but maybe like yawns they're contagious. ]
[Says Anon, who regularly sleeps in the rooms, but after finding Natsuno out at night in literally every sort of place imaginable he'd wonder if Natsuno used his room at all. Apparently he only does so when he's awake at night, probably? Gosh.
He does curl closer, though, just a little. Speaking of pink, his hair is absolutely everywhere and Natsuno is probably laying on some of it by now, so he totally has an excuse to move and spare himself some tugging.]
Mhmm. You should try it sometime. [ Natsuno won't comment on the rearranging anymore than he'll admit to himself that his words are spilling out even more candidly than usual. There's something playful yet soft about them too, that he's making no attempt at tempering.
Why would he? Here—no the where is irrelevant, it's the who which matters— he can truly be himself. ]
[That much is completely true, regardless of the softness of the atmosphere and the laughing lilt of his voice, and always has been true: Anon chases new experiences and new horizons the way he chases the next fight and the next moment, ever moving and ever shifting. Even here, there's a brightness and an energy about him, muted and gathered close in the quiet but there.
But he stays, and that's something in itself, too.
This close it's easy to catch the scent of sweet, slightly crushed flowers after a long day, the softest clink and coil of his braid between them. He's closed his eyes as though accepting where he is for the moment, posture still alert even as he settles.]
Good. [ His approval settles on them like a blanket and he closes his eyes again, acquiescing to the atmosphere and this warm feeling he thought he'd never feel again. ]
With all these flowers, s'kinda like a tree anyway. [ The braids in his hair are still there too; he hadn't had the mind to undo them nor had any reason, really. There were probably some stares or comments at some point from the others, but those are all things that don't matter. This is between them. ]
[The warmth is elusive but there even under the sea breeze, the scent of foliage and the sea tossed up to them from the island like a cradle without shape, both of them close enough to share the faintest hum of body heat; and maybe that's why Anon can feel everything inside him settling in a way it rarely does.
It's a strange thing, when he's this close to somebody. He's not sure if it's a feeling he's forgotten or one he's just learning the shape of. Maybe a little of both.
It's a feeling he's carried all day, too, the lingering quiet of their time braiding staying with him when he caught the endless flowers over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye or when he ran a happy hand over the braid before tucking it away from his daily activities. It was something you couldn't help but notice and the no doubt increased attention made him happy, too.
There's a bit of a laugh as he contemplates the feeling of roof tiles under him. He's slept all kinds of places, usually out of necessity, but still.]
I don't think you want to fall out of this tree... but at least the flowers won't melt anything.
[At this point he's really just chattering for the sake of it, letting the words scatter and surround them like the rest of the moment.]
You can just fall on me, I'm sturdy. [ Given everything that's happened today, there's absolutely zero effort put in to try to make this sound less flirty. But then he adds after in a softer tone: ]
The ravine was much deeper, and I doubt you're heavy. I dunno how much I could protect us from melting flowers though, it'd make our hair a mess. [ He's not really sure why the flowers would be melting but he's following along with this unlikely hypothetical anyway, just like he's let himself be swept along the whole day. It's led him here after all. ]
[It's languid and drawn out, and there's no effort from Anon's end either to make it any less teasing or less anything; he doesn't need to be lulled by their closeness or the far-off rhythm of waves to feel at ease here, opening one eye to aim a mock-experimental nudge at the boy next to him.
His grin is equally soft and silly.]
Maybe you're even a little sturdier than me right now.
[Not that it was an especially big advantage when they tried it out for real (or sort of for real, because their attempts at sparring still haven't gone terribly far yet), but that's not the important thing right now. The important thing here is that they're closer yet because of the nudging, Anon crowding in unrepentantly.]
But there's totally flowers that can melt anything because that's how this island works. We could take 'em if we had to, though.
[Not sure how this became flower wars but it's not like he's worrying about it.]
Maybe you're right. But there's probably only one way to know for sure. [ There's just the slightest waver in Natsuno's voice which he channels into nudging Anon back. With both his eyes open he can appreciate everything fully, even if he's not really sure where to look—the silly grin, bright red eyes, soft pink braid and festival of flowers all are competing for his attention. ]
Mmnn, that makes me wants kakigoori. [ He's getting worse and worse at controlling his impulses, especially the increasingly greedy ones. ]
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Yeah. It's like death and me are very...contrary. When I want it, it runs away from me. When I don't, it chases me down relentlessly. I fought against the Shiki for weeks basically on my own, I wasn't going to let myself die in that village no matter what. If I had to kill someone, desecrate a corpse, steal money, lie to my family, I didn't care. I was sure there was nothing that could stop me. But when the time came down to it, and death finally came to me I—I just accepted it. If it had been anyone else I could have...
[ Cupping his palm over his eyes, he no longer wants to see the stars. Not when all he can see right now is a sky of white flowers. ]
I failed. I gave up, just like she did. I was okay with dying if it was at Tohru's hands. [ Like a random drop of rain, the name just falls off his lips. He adds the actual answer to the question as an afterthought, a feeble attempt at a coverup. ]
But death was...it wasn't bad. I think I was content.
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Battling for survival is nowhere near anything new, but understanding someone else's for a reason other than using it against them? That's new, some part of him understands, though not in so many words.
So when Natsuno covers his eyes, Anon shifts just a little -- bumps his shoulder up against his, briefly. A shove, a prod, something like an instinctual response. His instincts are still very good, even smothered under a Witch's veil.]
I knew you had the potential to really fight. It's easy to see that in somebody, in the first minute, or the first second.
But... [he taps a finger at his temple] The psychological advantages are the most dangerous ones, because it bypasses your ability to even start to fight back. It changes you in ways that even our abilities can't. It's the kind we try to guard against the most.
[There's something a bit clumsy about it, the way he tries to relate it to what he knows. There's another little silence there, as though he might be aware of that, but--]
So, Tohru was the one who bit you?
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Yeah. He was my-my best friend. The Shiki got him pretty early—he was always inviting everyone over to his house and he had no shortage of friends. But he put up with me even if his other friends hated me. [ There's a clear understanding here that Natsuno knows he's not easy to be around, as he's stated before. He's blunt, opinionated, and doesn't interact with others unless he has a reason. So he comprehends Anon's words all too well in a different way. Feelings are dangerous. ]
Dying to him...I was okay with. Even if I was angry, I accepted all his excuses anyway. Somehow I knew I would never escape that village and it was easier to just sleep. I guess it was kind of selfish of me too, but I had written my parents off for a while by then.
But then I didn't die. I didn't die, and I was still really, really angry.
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[It's more of a soft murmur than anything, background noise like the waves in the distance as things settle in, though Anon does say it anyway -- half to himself and half to Natsuno. There's a brief sigh as he glances over at him again, thoughtful.]
He could kind of think outside their boxes, couldn't he? Tohru.
[That's actually all the commentary he offers for a little while, letting the silence go.]
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Meeting that look this time he smiles bitterly. ]
I thought he did. But I was wrong. When I came back, when he saw me again—all he cared about was that he didn't have to be guilty anymore. His apologies, his pity, his tears...they were for him not me. He did this stupid thing where he left a white flower each night outside my window for an entire week as penance or something. I hated it and I hated him for being like everyone else in the end.
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[It's just idle commentary, as he looks back at him.
If Natsuno has a terrible temper, then Anon's is an absolutely unknown value -- he hasn't come anywhere near getting serious in this Game of theirs, even if Nirrti keeps upping the ante. It's exciting, but he's still watching and learning; there will be time, surely. There's no telling what would happen if you riled both of these two at once, though. Worlds have probably been ended for less.
There's something oddly comforting in all of that.]
Ah. So that's why you didn't have any white in your bouquets. He didn't want to take proper responsibility for what he did, or commit to it, did he? If he was going to kill you, he should at least do it wholeheartedly.
Dying for something half-baked is what makes vengeful ghosts.
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Somehow despite it all, he lets out a short laugh. It's not truly joyful, nor is it bitter—it just is. He's been doing a lot of that lately, when they're together. ]
So I'm a half-baked jinrou ghost, hn? That's almost as long as my name. [ That's soft, a touch amused. And then he speaks again, his words heavy and weighted like freshly poured concrete. ]
He didn't want to do it properly, yeah. But I never made my end with him properly either. I think I want to, I have to if I'm going to find that third path.
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He knows the sound of his own laughter -- less so anyone else's.]
It's not the ghost that's half-baked.
[He lets the moment slide down with the weight of what comes next, though, shifting to it easily the way he always does -- easily as breathing, moving from the shape of one moment to the next. It's almost always easy for him.]
What kind of end did you want?
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He was my spy. When we bite people, beyond the venom, we can give them a command. It's not something the bitten can ignore, and it works on other undead too. That's how I knew where to find the leaders, and where the Shiki were hiding. I made him tell me everything. But there wasn't a point in killing him then—not when he could continue to be useful.
In the end, he burned somewhere like half of the other Shiki. I never got my chance, it's too late. But I guess... I could give him the same goodbye he gave me. That's fitting, I think.
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[He's just throwing that out there, letting the weight of the rest sink in.
Using people is nothing new to him -- it doesn't even bear the same significance as it does to Natsuno, all things considered, all of the things that have been scattered on this rooftop now are saying. He turns it over the way he turned over the initial thing -- dying to Tohru, turning it around on Tohru, turning around Tohru like a moth around a lamp.]
But it's the only way to be sure, right?
[Tohru isn't Shimizu, but the same principle applies in some part, he thinks.]
What was the goodbye?
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Yeah, it's the only way to be sure. [ A shrug and a thin smile, this time devoid of bitterness. ] With flowers, I mean. I still have all the white ones from the bunches Tateyama gave me.
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[There's a brief tilt of his head as he thinks about that.
After all, Natsuno could have requested her not to give him any white flowers. So it's a long-term plan, maybe?]
Does the island have a good place for them...?
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I don't think so. Somewhere outside probably...
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[Honestly, if you let Anon help he would happily pick everything white on the island, he doesn't mind scavenger hunts like this. He doesn't move, though -- it would take forever to get off the roof, anyway, so he waits for Natsuno, humming a little.]
Just try not to put them in any trees.
[He's never letting that one go.]
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It really wasn't that awful of a place to sleep. I've slept in a few places like that now here. [ Yawning a bit he stretches out against the hard floor of the roof. Any brushing here might be coincidental—he can't help that he's a lanky teenager. ]
Maybe I'll sleep here too. [ Nevermind that he sounds perfectly awake (and amused), he has one bright red eye open too, gaze tilted to the side at the infernal. ]
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[Anon stretches in response, like transferring yawns or something -- shifts just a little closer, like an automatic response to the gravity of the Earth, except the Earth is all the way below them and there's nothing else around them for the widest expanse of the grounds and the forest.
He meets Natsuno's glance with one of his own, red to red and about equally as serious. There's a smile threatening at the corner of his mouth, but with him, there always is.]
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But this is better than the tree, yeah.
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[Says Anon, who regularly sleeps in the rooms, but after finding Natsuno out at night in literally every sort of place imaginable he'd wonder if Natsuno used his room at all. Apparently he only does so when he's awake at night, probably? Gosh.
He does curl closer, though, just a little. Speaking of pink, his hair is absolutely everywhere and Natsuno is probably laying on some of it by now, so he totally has an excuse to move and spare himself some tugging.]
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Why would he? Here—no the where is irrelevant, it's the who which matters— he can truly be himself. ]
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[That much is completely true, regardless of the softness of the atmosphere and the laughing lilt of his voice, and always has been true: Anon chases new experiences and new horizons the way he chases the next fight and the next moment, ever moving and ever shifting. Even here, there's a brightness and an energy about him, muted and gathered close in the quiet but there.
But he stays, and that's something in itself, too.
This close it's easy to catch the scent of sweet, slightly crushed flowers after a long day, the softest clink and coil of his braid between them. He's closed his eyes as though accepting where he is for the moment, posture still alert even as he settles.]
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With all these flowers, s'kinda like a tree anyway. [ The braids in his hair are still there too; he hadn't had the mind to undo them nor had any reason, really. There were probably some stares or comments at some point from the others, but those are all things that don't matter. This is between them. ]
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It's a strange thing, when he's this close to somebody. He's not sure if it's a feeling he's forgotten or one he's just learning the shape of. Maybe a little of both.
It's a feeling he's carried all day, too, the lingering quiet of their time braiding staying with him when he caught the endless flowers over his shoulder out of the corner of his eye or when he ran a happy hand over the braid before tucking it away from his daily activities. It was something you couldn't help but notice and the no doubt increased attention made him happy, too.
There's a bit of a laugh as he contemplates the feeling of roof tiles under him. He's slept all kinds of places, usually out of necessity, but still.]
I don't think you want to fall out of this tree... but at least the flowers won't melt anything.
[At this point he's really just chattering for the sake of it, letting the words scatter and surround them like the rest of the moment.]
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The ravine was much deeper, and I doubt you're heavy. I dunno how much I could protect us from melting flowers though, it'd make our hair a mess. [ He's not really sure why the flowers would be melting but he's following along with this unlikely hypothetical anyway, just like he's let himself be swept along the whole day. It's led him here after all. ]
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[It's languid and drawn out, and there's no effort from Anon's end either to make it any less teasing or less anything; he doesn't need to be lulled by their closeness or the far-off rhythm of waves to feel at ease here, opening one eye to aim a mock-experimental nudge at the boy next to him.
His grin is equally soft and silly.]
Maybe you're even a little sturdier than me right now.
[Not that it was an especially big advantage when they tried it out for real (or sort of for real, because their attempts at sparring still haven't gone terribly far yet), but that's not the important thing right now. The important thing here is that they're closer yet because of the nudging, Anon crowding in unrepentantly.]
But there's totally flowers that can melt anything because that's how this island works. We could take 'em if we had to, though.
[Not sure how this became flower wars but it's not like he's worrying about it.]
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Mmnn, that makes me wants kakigoori. [ He's getting worse and worse at controlling his impulses, especially the increasingly greedy ones. ]
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