#tisiph

His heart flutters this time as she repeats the action, and it’s with a start that he realizes he likes this, Lord help him. But ain’t he, perhaps, a bit beyond the Lord’s help? He’s done... God only knows how much wrong. With preparations for the mutual killing all set up, his list of sins is only going to keep growing. And, really... sure, he’s a man, but is he only a man? He knows things, knows things a mere mortal man never could. But, say, even if he were just a person... Why, there’s plenty a man can do. Men can build, create, form empires, create cultures. Men can destroy, erase countries and entire lands. 

Men could kills gods, if they wanted to.

And that’s just what some run of the mill, Joe Schmoe could do. What could Silas Sizemore, preacher, prophet, mastermind, do? He smirks, even as he realizes that Kouko is murmuring, almost breathing, his name gently to herself in time with the bows. You know what? He did deserve this. He deserved this and more! And with the angel at his feet, he knows.

He could end the world if he wanted to. He could destroy it utterly, leaving people cowering in his wake. He could make himself God. 

Mori would, of course--it was practically her obligation to do so, but... gosh, the thought was certainly sweet, wasn’t it? Or, at least, Mori sure thought it was! Even to herself, seemingly ‘out of character’, he always tries to look on the bright side, to see the best in people. Despite... things. “Mori-chan is so happy!! Mori-chan wants to thank you a whole lot, Karada-chan!” He hugs the bouquet to herself, absolutely beaming as if he’d just won Miss Japan. 

“I understand that you may have reservations about my offering of these, but I assure you, Mori-kun, my intentions are pure.” Well, that settles that, then! Sure, it was weird for him to be referred to with that particular honorific, but it was just how this fella was, she supposes! He explains that after seeing Mori perform live some months ago, only to attend Hope’s Peak and have class with him, the pianist wanted to show his appreciation. 

However, at school at the illustrious Hope’s Peak Academy, he doesn’t have the advantage of wearing his normal outfit, and... goodness, the school uniforms are so thin. At least the cold is enough to keep him awake.

“Uozumi-kun,” a voice calls from behind him, and he slowly turns around in the hallway to see one Satoru Yotsuya there, his arms behind his back. He’s not wearing his blazer. 

“Oh... Hello, Yotsuya-san...” Hozumi replies gently, rubbing at one of his eyes before looking up to the host. At first, he’d been entirely iffy on the boy, but... despite his title, he wasn’t so bad after all. “Do you... need something?”

“Pardon my forwardness, but I couldn’t help but notice you were shivering in our last class, so I thought I’d--” With a flourish fitting of a host, he whips the jacket out from behind him, presenting it to Hozumi as he gets down on bended knee. “--offer you my jacket. You may wear it the rest of the day, if you wish. I just need it back before I go home, is all.” 

Hozumi stares blankly at this display for a good few seconds, brows knitting in confusion. This was... for him? Well... that’s... well, he’s not going to say no to some extra warmth... but at the same time... “Will you... get in trouble for... violating the dress code... Yotsuya-san?” he questions, to which Satoru merely winks.

“Please, Uozumi-kun! It’s of no matter to me. Also, my knee is getting tired.”

The prosecutor hesitates a moment longer before taking the blazer, after which Satoru gets back to his feet with a large smile on his face. Hozumi pulls the jacket around himself, and despite the thin fabric, the doubledness of it and his own blazer finally create some warmth for him. “I... appreciate this, Yotsuya-san. Thank you...”

“Oh, not a problem at all!” Satoru replies, looking up at the clock and gasping in what is probably an exaggerated manner. “You should get to class, Uozumi-kun. We don’t want you to be late, after all!” And with that, the host darts off, presumably to his own class.