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[raidraptors]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, SHUN KUROSAKI. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 235.59.665.46 *** XYZ-RAPTOR has joined 235.59.665.46 <XYZ-RAPTOR> Keep it short.

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[photonement]

[There are several significant lulls as she waits for each task to be complete before issuing the next instruction. Her body is like a spring, strung out when she's got something to say and then tense again with the effort of not asking him about anything else.

With enhanced senses he can probably hear it even more easily than ever: the exact moment when his bandage comes into view is when Mahiru heaves a huge relieved sigh, which she swallows soon enough (and it's not enough that she can relax altogether yet), resuming the work.]

[raidraptors]

[It's a quiet rhythm of chores, mindless and maybe Shun would find it relaxing, if Koizumi's curiosity didn't have so much damn presence in this room, if his enhanced senses and general awareness didn't force him to pick up so much of that.

Finally, he has enough and sets down the container he had been handling just before, his arms crossing over his chest.]

If you have something to say, say it.

[photonement]

[She purses her lips and the air flows out way too easily. Fine. He can tell. That's just how this works. This... reduction in complete animosity that she feels too. It's progress honestly that he doesn't totally blow up at her and refuse to take questions at all.]

I really thought for a while some guy might have killed you. [The sentiment comes out a little more intense than she'd expected, and she shakes her head, dials it back, proceeds to matter-of-factly rattle off the reasons why she'd come to misunderstand.] I mean, you're suddenly gone but come back right when the Fog rolls in... that's what it looked like. We usually come back a hundred percent healthy, though, and you're obviously not, so I'm guessing something else happened?

[raidraptors]

[Of course he can tell. She is might as well shouting I Can Barely Contain My Questions over IV's broadcast.]

I'm not that easy to kill.

[Just in case she ever had any doubts about that despite the near two months they've been working at the Gargoyle now. Anyway, the actual question is pretty much only rhetorical, right?]

[photonement]

[Her answer is so automatic as to border on reflexive:] I know.

[Because she tried, after all. When they both felt the same type of electricity or aching lack thereof in their veins, and she was still a ragdoll in his arms. Monsters and humans are different; right now, in September, they're still stuck somewhere in between. The gap is less wide, between monsters that are done, than it was at the end of August, when and knelt in a pile of IV's bones that were dismantled as handily as Mahiru deals with those toothpicks that are stuck together in clumps of a dozen after some mishap at the factory. How much better at killing (Mahiru has all too much reason to suspect that he's not exactly starting out as no good at all) has IV gotten over the past couple weeks? As he caught her by surprise she found herself comparing him to Sakaki striking as a snake, but he had good intentions in the end, would never hurt her. So Mahiru doesn't know if he's surpassed Kurosaki. The plants took care of the evening's violence quota when they were on their way out. Maybe she should even be more worried for IV's sake?

Yuzu's warning is what ultimately guides her here; she lets the possibilities swirl around the surface of her mind for only a moment before deciding that if any of the parties involved want a meddling Mahiru to help, they know where to find her. Nothing has actually changed all that much. It's... fine.] Things just got really out of hand at that festival, too. [She raps her knuckles lightly on a barrel that, true to her following words, sounds basically empty.] Like, this 132 vintage got a huge puncture; what's left should probably fit in just one of the glass bottles instead of those jars.

[raidraptors]

[They are stuck in-between, time slow to close the time and in a sense Shun wishes his change would hurry up, that his nails would grow out into claws and his teeth sharpen without him needing to take that animal form he had turned himself into during the festival through sheer force of will and need.

(Being trapped beneath Fudo, feeling those claws tear into his arm... Shun rarely ever felt that powerless and he hates it every time it happens.)

He frowns faintly; he knows exactly what had caused that puncture, but puts that out of his mind as he goes reaching for two of those bottles – one to fill, one in reserve in case her estimation is off.]

One way to find out.

[They are here to work after all. If she wants to talk about the festival, well then she should ask her questions directly.]