Masaomi doesn't even notice the way he curls into himself, how he hugs his knees to his chest. He can almost imagine his friend Mikado doing that for him, hiding him away in his tiny one-room apartment while yellow-clad thugs prowl the streets. Of course, Mikado would do something like that, say something so altruistic. That attitude of his is something Masaomi has always admired and wanted to protect.
But that was before Masaomi dashed all of his expectations in one fell swoop. It's terrifying to wonder what Mikado may think of him now that he's dead and gone.
"Did you... Did you ever get out of there? The gang?"
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Masaomi doesn't even notice the way he curls into himself, how he hugs his knees to his chest. He can almost imagine his friend Mikado doing that for him, hiding him away in his tiny one-room apartment while yellow-clad thugs prowl the streets. Of course, Mikado would do something like that, say something so altruistic. That attitude of his is something Masaomi has always admired and wanted to protect.
But that was before Masaomi dashed all of his expectations in one fell swoop. It's terrifying to wonder what Mikado may think of him now that he's dead and gone.
"Did you... Did you ever get out of there? The gang?"