Grief

Growing

Shizu-chan's work has been going smoother as of late.

Ever since the beast's rampage the other day, he hasn't had another full-on temper tantrum. Though his rage hasn't been completely erased, of course, but I couldn't help but notice the lessened number of debtors with missing teeth within these past couple of days...

I nibbled on my lip, recalling the past few customers as we walked down the street. Bustles of people splitting as Shizu-chan and Tom walked toward the next destination.

Now that I was thinking more about it, there was a lot about Shizuo that's changed over this whole thing, or perhaps it was just a side of him I was unaware of before... all of this.

I glanced back towards the blond, who seemed to be contempt with inhaling a cigarette as he listened to Tom's idle chatter. That looming question stayed at the back of my mind as I watched, ever since that night, I couldn't shake off the uncertainty of his nature.

Promptly shaking my head, I tore my gaze away before I could fall down another rabbit hole of questions I wasn't keen to find an answer to. Instead, I kept my focus on the little quirks my lovely humans showed as we- well Shizuo, passed.

None of them seemed to have noticed the difference in the number of thrown projectiles as of late. I suppose it's only been a couple of days though...

I gave a lazy shrug, the heft of my furred hood threatening to slide off my shoulder as my shoulders lifted.

Another strange thing I've noticed with the protozoan is how much we've actually been talking.

Talking- Just speaking in a conversation!

I idled over when exactly things had gotten so strangely comfortable in a conversation between the two of us. When had it stopped being solely insults and tense silence, but instead something threatening on the edge of peaceful with a dash of interesting conversation!

My lashes flickered, lowering down to bring my gaze to my feet as I walked- hovered, just above the ground with every step.

I thought back to the first day Shizuo saw me, the dead me, even then things had not been the same as when we were alive. I suppose with the absence of knives and fists, the stakes aren't as high. But back then, things had been different, an adrenalin rush of excitement, the proof of humanity and the differences between the two of us-

But with a victor to the game now present, how would things change between the two of us?

Especially when said victor doesn't even seem to enjoy his victory- a matter of fact, the man seems to be regretful of his winnings.

My brows furrowed as that familiar crawl began at the back of my throat. I swallowed, taking a deep breath to try and rid the eerie feeling from my system.

My head snapped up, startled as a wall flashed in front of me before I naturally phased through it before I could stop myself.

Oh.

We had made it to the next address already.

The sound of a knock echoed behind me as I looked around the room I'd managed to accidentally phase into. There was a woman, I supposed around her thirties, hunched over on her couch watching some melodrama on her television.

An off-brand cigarette hung from her lips, and as I watched the smoke rise higher, my nose scrunched up at the sight of the blatant nicotine stains blotched along with the ceiling. The woman didn't budge from her slouched position at the sound of the knock, instead just snarling out a complaint against a character on the screen.