ѕσυη∂ σƒ ѕησω

          雪 ——     What a nosy girl! Why the hell was it any                            of her business? Why shouldn't he take                            things, if it was the only way to get them?                            Everyone else could have them, so why                            couldn't he...? It's the least he was owed                            for being dead, and serving a destitute god.                            He paused, then, in his stalk down the                            street, turning slightly beneath the fur of                            his hood. Well, if she was offering...                                           "...Food...would be nice..."

          雪 ——     Thin brows drew close, clearly                            contemplating her answer, rather                            than accepting it. There was no                            awe or glory in his eyes for the                            visitation of an angel--instead,                            he appeared skeptical.                            "Sorry--" He murmured. "--but                            I don't really believe in angels."

          雪 ——                           ".....No reason.                                         Mind your business."                            The fur lining of the parka's hood                            was swept up over his sunny                            crown. Hurriedly, he made for the                            door and exited the store, the bell                            chiming as he did so, and receiving                            strange looks from the patrons...as                            though they couldn't see the boy.

          雪 ——     "Huh...? No."                             Almost immediately, that excitement fell                             to an apathy--forced, but with practice.                             "I haven't seen Yato in four days. He's                             all but disappeared again."

          雪 ——     "Huh? Wh--no! That'd be rude."                             At least, of him. After all, he'd been the one                             to make the mistake of giving the pocketbook                             back to the wrong person. Shaking his head,                             his golden locks fell haphazardly about his                             youthful face as he spoke. "If you want,                             you can come with me...? I mean--if you                             think I'm gonna take it, or something?"