A man dressed in a long black coat and pants stood in front of the desk. A gray mask, much like a surgical mask, covered half of his face so only his violet eyes were visible. He swayed on his feet and pressed his palm against his forehead with a grunt. His eyes flicked back and forth erratically as he filed through recent and painful memories. A
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Looking at someone. Someone mean.
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Honestly, if Karasu tried something, it's fifty-fifty. Wishbone would either bite him or run scared.
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