[The window is open, and Karasu is sitting on the sill. He fiddles with the communicator until he's satisfied with the feed quality, setting it on the edge of a table. Stretching, he offers the camera a lazy sort of smile.]
In...less than a month it will be two years. Two years to the very...day.
[This doesn't seem to bother him, however, and he
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And...I much rather prefer living.
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Death in my world, would be eternal imprisonment in a Reikai jail cell for the crimes I committed in life, most likely.
Demons rarely enjoy happy endings.
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