The Head Bastard was pissed off. That was nice. Made him more dangerous, but it was less dull than listening to military drones whine overhead
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Renji rolled his eyes at what the Head Doctor said as he wolfed down the last few bites of his dinner. At this point, he really didn't care what the guy did any more. Because a shit cake was a shit cake whether it had two tiers or three. He took a moment to tuck some pens into his obi and sleeves, since it was back to the drawing board for him. After a moment of consideration he also took the radio. He'd always thought the radio guy was singularly useless, but you never knew. Things could change.
He tucked his flashlight into his obi as well, but didn't turn it on. He was used to navigating the hallways in darkness now, with just a light touch against the walls now and then. Having been dead for four weeks didn't make the memories any less present, because he felt like it was all just yesterday.
He stepped out of his room and broke into a run, feet almost silent in his waraji.
He tucked his flashlight into his obi as well, but didn't turn it on. He was used to navigating the hallways in darkness now, with just a light touch against the walls now and then. Having been dead for four weeks didn't make the memories any less present, because he felt like it was all just yesterday.
He stepped out of his room and broke into a run, feet almost silent in his waraji.
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