Akane blinked, her processors catching on a different part of Hamuko’s response.
“Wait,” she said, tilting her head. “But I thought all high schoolers weren’t supposed to have alcohol at that age.”
Her tone was completely innocent, purely rule-abiding, but then she paused. Her optics flickered, and she continued, still completely serious:
“…Then again, it’s not like Wolf doesn’t have alcohol. He drinks all the time.”
It was the kind of statement only an AI could make—devoid of judgment, purely factual, yet somehow deeply morbid.
Zenkichi let out a slow, suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not all the time. Nor am I a student-” he corrected, shaking his head. “And besides—that’s personal.”
He let his hand drop, exhaling, before fixing Hamuko with a raised brow, unimpressed. Alas most of his sass was hidden by his mask.
“Right. So there are crazier details than meeting Death itself?” He crossed his arms, giving her a pointed look. “Pray do tell.”
no subject
“Wait,” she said, tilting her head. “But I thought all high schoolers weren’t supposed to have alcohol at that age.”
Her tone was completely innocent, purely rule-abiding, but then she paused. Her optics flickered, and she continued, still completely serious:
“…Then again, it’s not like Wolf doesn’t have alcohol. He drinks all the time.”
It was the kind of statement only an AI could make—devoid of judgment, purely factual, yet somehow deeply morbid.
Zenkichi let out a slow, suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not all the time. Nor am I a student-” he corrected, shaking his head. “And besides—that’s personal.”
He let his hand drop, exhaling, before fixing Hamuko with a raised brow, unimpressed. Alas most of his sass was hidden by his mask.
“Right. So there are crazier details than meeting Death itself?” He crossed his arms, giving her a pointed look. “Pray do tell.”