[Really Chikusa, imaging that Mukuro would visit him so soon was what bordered on vain. There was a thrill in anticipation, in building up apprehension, and Mukuro was more than content to follow Chikusa with quiet steps. There were ways of masking his presence even to someone who was looking for him so carefully, and he watched curiously as Chikusa didn't follow his mentor to the hospital. Ah, so perhaps sparing him wouldn't endear him to other man as well as he had previously believed.
As he shadowed Chikusa's routine, he took in everything, missing nothing. The lack of people who checked up on him after exorcising a powerful demon. No one who took him aside to tell him to be careful. No one had accompanied him home to make sure he would be fine. Curious. Did people fear him as much as the demons did?
He followed him home on light steps, looking around his small home and seeing a lack of personal items that spoke volumes. This could have been an apartment he had just moved into, not a place he had lived for years. Mukuro had been in ruins that had more personality of its owners, and that was after treasure hunters had stripped everything dry.
With an unabashed amusement, he watched Chikusa sketch his eyes with great care, settled on the edge of his bed when he fell asleep, before turning away from him. There were others to pursue after all, even if Chikusa was his current preference, and he didn't want to be too predictable after all.
Mukuro would wait a week before appearing to Chikusa in his dreams, molding it after the priest's apartment, nestled near the windows, the moonlight streaming in to frame his distinct pineapple hair in a silver sort of halo, a thin ponytail draped over his shoulder, reaching his waist easily. To play favorites with favorites, he'd chosen the form he liked the most, a youthful looking man with fair skin, a wicked grin, and mismatched eyes. Many a mortal had found the appearance beautiful, though he doubted such petty tricks would be effective against Chikusa. Still, it couldn't hurt.
He was humming softly as he flipped through Chikusa's sketch pad, amusement curling his lips upwards.]
no subject
As he shadowed Chikusa's routine, he took in everything, missing nothing. The lack of people who checked up on him after exorcising a powerful demon. No one who took him aside to tell him to be careful. No one had accompanied him home to make sure he would be fine. Curious. Did people fear him as much as the demons did?
He followed him home on light steps, looking around his small home and seeing a lack of personal items that spoke volumes. This could have been an apartment he had just moved into, not a place he had lived for years. Mukuro had been in ruins that had more personality of its owners, and that was after treasure hunters had stripped everything dry.
With an unabashed amusement, he watched Chikusa sketch his eyes with great care, settled on the edge of his bed when he fell asleep, before turning away from him. There were others to pursue after all, even if Chikusa was his current preference, and he didn't want to be too predictable after all.
Mukuro would wait a week before appearing to Chikusa in his dreams, molding it after the priest's apartment, nestled near the windows, the moonlight streaming in to frame his
distinct pineapplehair in a silver sort of halo, a thin ponytail draped over his shoulder, reaching his waist easily. To play favorites with favorites, he'd chosen the form he liked the most, a youthful looking man with fair skin, a wicked grin, and mismatched eyes. Many a mortal had found the appearance beautiful, though he doubted such petty tricks would be effective against Chikusa. Still, it couldn't hurt.He was humming softly as he flipped through Chikusa's sketch pad, amusement curling his lips upwards.]
Everything you imagined, Chikusa Kakimoto?