black smoke seethes through sharp canines, eyes like acid sweep his surroundings with the utmost caution; his gaze burning like the great fires of rome. with care, he gives gentle touches when his fingers play with the hilt of his sword. (one would find his gentleness surprising, as he is disaster itself). the man blends with the bustling crowd of edo, his feet scraping against the dry dirt on the paths. and once he sees a familiar albino, he stops in his tracks as a wry smirk grows wider as he briskly walks towards the other.
‘ yo, gintoki. what a coincidence to see you here. ‘
❝ the hell —❞
he couldn’t quite feel his body turn, as though it was an old habit that guided him much more so than pure reaction, with his own smile vanishing as the other’s grew to make room for a sloppily veiled frown. That guy had nerves. His lips followed suit to tighten in subdued annoyance, more because of how ridiculously easygoing of a greeting this had been than anything else.
vexing.
❝ — the hell’s up with that, acting all surprised. I LIVE here, you know. ❞
half of him was fond of it, the other half had few things it despised more. This casualness.
It made it frighteningly easy to forget that they were long past the times in which they’d fought for the same cause.