An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

"Geto!" The pink haired Trainer greets her neighbor. "How delightful to see you here."

Vivi seems appropriately dressed for the occasion - a simple, matte ankle-length dress with tied straps - as she steps up closer to the sorceror.

"Happy to see you in one piece."

And in good health. With everything going on with the city, it had been a worry, especially after choice conversations with his roommate.

He trots ahead of Suguru to kick the rock before he could, though he kicks it up with his foot to catch in Infinity's orbit around his fingers. Suguru's words being his attention back to the conversation.

"And why not? It's not like anyone ever shows me any respect. It's always complaining, blah, blah, blah, like I can't ever do anything right! What do they know about it? I'm the one they should be nice to."

He rolls his eyes, adjusting his glasses quietly.

This was exactly why they always got into fights. One of them would push a little too hard. Prod at something just a little too sore. Find the one thing that got under the other's skin.

"They were before I started seeing curses."

His parents had tried to keep it secret for a long time. He even tried to stay a part of the community and just put the whole curse stuff behind. Silently consuming them when he came across them.

It was... impressive, all things considered. He hadn't made it to triple digits with his own personal best. It was different however. The targets that Toji had taken out were more than just some ordinary people who probably didn't see it coming.

They were sorcerers worth a grain of salt. Or curse users who went rouge from certain clans.

The guy across the table took out a few dozen mailmen.

"Right... Right. So... let me get this straight," He starts casually, "You lost your mind, started killing a bunch of normal people and for ten years, Gojo let you do that and then release even more curses."

A pause.

He sits back in his chair. Idly messing with his empty mug and thinking about getting a refill.

Maybe that would make him feel less insane.

"As of right now, I would say that not even money would have made what I did justified. Hell- I made a bunch of it through scamming the worst of humanity that I could find."

It was lucrative, but definitely insane.

"Oh yeah, I bet it's a little lame, huh? I kinda feel the same way, after this guy's powers being back to pretty much zero." The hare is by the table. It thumps its foot, annoyed.

"Pretty lame."

He joins Ilseong at the table. Eyeing the cigarette between his fingers. Distant memories of sitting outside with Shoko smoking linger at the back of his mind. He had half a thought to ask his roommate for one to share.

"Did you eat, by the way?" She asks. She doesn't wait for him to answer. She'll hear him even if she's stepped away to grab some fruits from the kitchen. "Here. I sliced them up already. Eat these while I get your hair fixed, okay? After, we can eat something bigger."

He's had it rough, and that meant he deserved some good food.

Fresh fruit is placed in his hands. Already sliced and ready to eat. "Thank you, Hansol. You really don't have to do all of this for me, but it is appreciated."

He sits back in the chair to let her do her thing. Slowly munching on the fruit and realizing he was a lot hungrier than he had initially thought.

"You know. I have a lot of trust in you, doing this for me. You haven't even told me your vision, and I am content in just letting you work."

He says it as that grin on his face grows bigger, and he even finally cracks a laugh- handing the CDs over as asked for. Was it to make up for the way a blush of heat caught on his neck? Maybe, but that wasn't here or there. It'd just been a minute since someone had said they wanted to do something nice for him.

Surely that was it.

"Yeah, you can pay for my things, Geto. I 'preciate it, actually.."

It trails for a moment and he feels his eyes glance off before coming back to look at the taller- his trauma pact bond of a friend.

" But, just so y'know, I value ya too, Mate. It's weird..uh..really, having someone who understands but it's nice so..Yeah."

His hand raises to rub along the rose tattoo along his skull. A still present tic of nerves that even after all these years he couldn't get rid of. That awkward air of trying to get used to be close to someone after so much time shoving things away still pinned him awkward even when he wanted to be genuine.

It ends up with his snorting a noise, a pseudo-laugh, in his chest and waving his hand at Geto.

They were both weird about making new friends. Caring about people was hard. That had to be it.

Not like he could put it past David after seeing firsthand some of the shit he had been through. That kind of thing didn't make it easier to get close to people at all. Well, not unless you bonded over it like they had.

He tucks David's albums with his. Giving the other a nod and a charismatic smile to hide how caught up in his own head he was.

"Yeah, yeah. Let me brag about being rich."

David's snort when he gave a half-laugh was nice... stop getting distracted.

"I'll keep paying for stuff for you if you keep letting me. My old job seems to still be paying out. I could live on the income for years without working a day, so let me get these. I'll be right back."

Music paid for. Separate bags acquired. He holds out David's to him.

Sometimes he found beauty in it, the ability to create life.

"That is his name, yes. I do...apologize for his rash behavior. I know he won't even consider it out of line, so might as well try and mend that."

Douma knew he was being used to heal wounds, it wasn't anything unusual considering how some relationships between he and his followers developed. He was a salve to a burn, a bountiful fruit to be bled over an altar and consumed until his people were sated.

Even if they could never have the person they loved dearly in the end, at least he could give them peace in their final moments, a unique euphoria.

Yet, it seemed that this behavior struck a nerve in his superior, for reasons Douma didn't understand, and still does not. After all, how could he be in the wrong for providing Suguru with a pantomime of the physical affection he once had with his previous partner?

Was that not what most people sought in courting? A union of the body to indulge?

Things had just been going on in the background. Many of which had taken his full attention. Keeping him from reaching out to Douma, or even some of his other friends.

It was becoming a much larger problem than he had anticipated. Feeling cornered in his own home. Antsy. Not things you wanted for somewhere you were expected to rest your head.

"I owe you an apology for not keeping in better contact. I've been busy. That's not an excuse for having been aloof. You deserve better because of our relationship. I have also neglected to inform anyone about finally repairing things with Satoru. I'm not entirely sure how it is going to affect us yet. But it... needs to be a conversation."

Now, the the break they have, Ilseong sits back, relaxes as if the area isn't bloodied by Geto's fury.

"Don't worry about my hair. We've got more important things to worry about at the moment. I'll deal with it after the city is done being attacked."

Hansol gasps in utter shock at the sight of Geto's hair.

"W-THOSE BASTARDS." What a strong reaction. She's shaking her fist and everything. "Ohhhh, Geto! Your hair!" His beautiful long hair. "Here, here, sit down. I'll take care of it." with that, she's ushering Geto inside the Hanok as if she were some older lady welcoming a person into her salon shop.

"Yeah, its pretty bad, huh?"

Bad was an understatement. It was uneven, choppy, caught with a sharp blade, but an unskilled stylist. Machines weren't the best hairdressers when their main goal was trying to kill you.

"Ahah! Yeah, she got me good, actually."

He has a little scar on his cheek. He was pissed, but after coming back, he isn't as. He's amused, actually.

He is trying to tie up his hair. After having it cut shorter to accommodate where it had been hacked off, it was not as easy to just throw into a half up bun.

He settles on just putting it all up for now.

So the urge to hand them over to let Geto cover them gets him to laugh some. Amused in a lightly taunting way.

"When you put it like that, ya make it seem like it's a mither t' come here. If you wanna pay for me, just say it like ya mean it, aight?"

"Okay, fine. I'll stop beating around the bush. I wanna buy them for you, because I value you coming out to spend time with me."

He didn't need to make up some dumb excuses for wanting to pay for everything. He could just lay it out there. They were friends at the very least.

"Look. I've got a lot of money to throw around. And... I'd rather it got spent on people who are important to me."

He and David had saw things that no one else could explain and made it out by relying on each other. That kind of trust couldn't be bought. But that didn't mean he couldn't treat David to not having to worry about whatever the Stars deemed their allowance.

"By the time I considered it, I was already at your door." He laughs softly, stepping past the other and into the front room, following after him with a pleased hum.

Iridescent eyes focused on the back of Suguru, how he carried himself, scanning for any signs of discomfort at his presence. Unfortunately it was habit to seek out weakness, to find any faults. This man had been the first to befriend him, and perhaps, Douma wanted to make sure their bond was still genuine. No one else has shared experiences like him, despite their upbringings being different.

A fault of being exposed to much nicer people, the demon could guess. Maybe he was exploring new feelings? Ah, his mind was spinning with possibilities.

He glances over his shoulder at the demon scratching at the lizard.

"I got access to some of my curses. Felt them swirling around in my gut one morning. They've been... useful. I didn't realize just how much I relied on them until they were gone."

He was mostly glad to have that familiar feeling back. Even if that pit contained turmoil and entropy, it was still a part of him that was missing.

So, he takes it upon himself to go on the prowl for his good friend. Surely the demon hadn't done anything wrong, their usual meetings were very amicable, if not pleasant. There couldn't be anything that was hidden away from him, and if there was...well, it would be uncovered in time.

Ah, there was the conflict in Kokushibo finding out about their...relationship. Upper One seemed quite angered by the nature of it, and that he would even waste time on a human that toyed with him. Perhaps the higher rank had scared his dear friend away, a shame. He had to make up for it somehow!

Douma crossed into the Cotes ward without a care, the sun setting behind him. A meeting under the moon wasn't anything unusual for them, but, perhaps he could have sent a message prior to arriving unannounced? Oh well.

"Suguruuu-" He chimes out upon approaching the front door to the townhouse, "Can I come in?"

"You didn't say you were coming over."

"I guess it's to be expected. Sorry for not reaching out to you for so long. Come on in. No one else is home right now."

Unfortunately, he was a spiteful son of a bitch.

So, bleeding Geto of as much as he was willing to give seemed like a salve for a gaping wound. A temporary solution.

It must be something like first machine luck, but he snags a plush on his first try. Firmly squeezing it with both an arm and a leg trapped in the claw. Watching the claw drag it across the machine while chewing on his bottom lip.

Thump. It landed successfully in the retrieval bin.

Good. He was still skilled at the things in the arcade. Maybe he could actually play some of the games and do well. He used to only lose because Satoru would cheat.

"Do you think there's an ocean here that's similar?"

He gets a far-off look in his eyes, remembering that bittersweet time on the beach. At the end of it, he has to smile, right? He promised Satoru he would stop dwelling on the past in such a depressing way.

"They got you, good, mm?" Rising to his feet, he approaches his friend and caringly wipes the blood from Geto's cheek. Only to place that finger against his tongue. "Was my singing prettily a distraction to you, Ge~to~?" He teases.

"I think my hair has been cut enough. Unless you want to add hairstylist to the growing list of things you can do that are not being a surgeon." His attempt at teasing the other back.