勇気 / / THE FIGHTER

Damien’s smile became a little brighter at hearing that. “Ah alright. I was just looking at the cheapest items on my list..” He trailed off when he realize she’s probably in a hurry assuming from the look on her face. “I’m also sorry for nearly knocking your basket out of your hands.” He added glancing at it once. “Uh.. Are you looking for anything?” He asked.

He was always awkward around women who’s not related or is a close friend of his. He glanced at his cart half full of the groceries Dante, and Monica asked with his smile slowly becoming a small frown.

——-‹❀› “Don’t worry about it,” the reply came, though it was not unkind. Emerald eyes darted across the aisle, scanning it for what she was looking for; seriously, why was it so hard to find instant noodles in this place? Maybe giving up in favor of dango dinners was a better idea, after all, a grumbling thought popped into her head, and Sakura sighed.

@verdxgris

Saturday was a nice day to go grocery shopping Damien decided. Letting his sister write the grocery list with their mother helping was also great. Finding everything on the list and keep on a budget is not so great but he will make duel. He’s just wished he was watching where he was going since he bumped into someone. 

Grocery shopping, Sakura decided, was an utterly mundane task that ate into precious research time. She was supposed to be looking into cases of Amaurosis fugax and figure out whether a carotid endarterectomy was require for her patient, not wandering the maze-like aisles of the supermarket in search of cheap, unhealthy food she could cook in two minutes. Honestly, I should just buy a bunch of Snickers and maybe some dango from —

“your feet are cold.”

“movies are made for watching, not for asking questions.”

“you’re hogging the blankets!”

“we should cuddle… for warmth.”

“is that your hand on my leg?”

“scoot over.”

“can we watch something else? this is scary.” 

“are you shivering?” 

“if you start snoring, i won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”

“did you eat all the popcorn?”

“your hair keeps getting in my face.”

“are you even wearing pants??”

“stop kicking me!”

“you’re a good pillow.”

“do i look like a foot-rest to you?”

“do i look like a pillow to you?”

“i’m cold.”

do not underestimate my character. do not underestimate my character. do not by all means underestimate my character. 

my muse can and will kill yours when feeling endangered, invaded or attacked. this is not out of character and no godmoding. 

These wings have remained useless for as long as he had lived. His brother, though–he had flown. Itachi had had the grand wings of a red winged blackbird, and had been able to escape, but had been shot down and rendered unable to ever use the ability of flight again.

Currently, Sasuke remains separated from Itachi, not knowing if he is alive or dead. So instead, he contents himself with looking over the girl in the cage next to him. Bemused, he lets out a chuckle. The wings on her back are beautiful, but he can’t help wondering if they’re able to lift her. His wings, from what he has heard, have been scaled so that he has the maximum ability of flight and so they can support his weight.

His query cuts across the air like a dull blade, reminding her once again of her...ungracious capture. Wings begin to retreat into their previous position gradually, though she is not as wary as before. Tilting her head to the side, she picks up on the sound his voice; it is hoarse, as though it has been unused for a long time. She refrains from answering his question in the moments that follow, and a silence settles between them, tense and inquisitive; she wonders how long he has been here himself, judging by the thinness of his limbs and the almost-empty look of his eyes —— they seem bottomless, echoing with vestiges of an all-too-obvious loneliness.

Sakura wonders whether he can fly, appraising his form as she crawls boldly towards the bars that separate them, flexing her wings a little, wincing at the stiffness they carried from misuse. He might just be her ticket out of here, judging by his wingspan —— ah, but they’re as derelict as Old Man Sarutobi’s back home, withered and weak. Hm. Perhaps she is wrong...he might not be of much help.

                       I’m sorry I take 2837897845748 years to respond.