“Are you poisonous?”
“Can I try to pick you up?”
“How is your hair so soft?”
“Why don’t you get pruney?”
“Can you be eaten like sashimi?”
“Have you ever fought off a shark?”
“You’re even prettier than legends say.”
“You speak our language surprisingly well.”
“I thought mermaids were supposed to be pretty.”
“Here, taste this. It’s a human drink called alcohol.”
“Is it true that you can erase memories with a kiss?”
“Wait! Please don’t leave! I’m not going to hurt you!”
“If I fall in love with you, does that mean I’m into zoophilia?”
“If you could get rid of your tail for legs and feet, would you?”
“So, like… were you hatched from an egg? Or born like a shark?”
“Should I build a house on the beach so we can always be together?”
MERMAID POV
“Do I scare you?”
“Your bathtub is too small…”
“Go ahead. You can touch me.”
“You have to stop coming here.”
“People are coming. I have to go.”
“Can you take me back to the ocean?”
“Why is there an eel between your legs?”
“Why is there a clam between your legs?”
“My scales are sharp. Please don’t touch them.”
“Did you really go out and buy me a kiddy pool to lay in?”
“I’m not just a fish. Stop treating me like I’m beneath you.”
“I’m getting dehydrated. Can you spray me with the hose?”
“Can you stop staring at me? You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“I cant live on land, and you cant live in the water. We cant be together.”
“If I leave the ocean for you, and you fall out of love with me, I’ll die. You have to know this.”
“That’s not a pool. That’s a deep hole with muddy water. You cant expect me to swim in that.”
♫ ー Concern, fear, it was all bare in Tae-san’s words. Her frail fingers trembled as they gripped her tea cup, contents long since gone cold. Clear studied the elderly woman through his tinted lenses. With each passing day she seemed to grow more fragile and he could not blame her. They had lost all communication with Aoba when he entered Platinum Jail, presumably with Koujaku as he had gone missing as well. It frustrated the android that he had been unable to accompany them, separated while they fled from the police. Perhaps if he had accompanied them he could have done something to help...something to get them home, safe and sound. But instead they were left in the dark. For all anyone knew Aoba and Koujaku could be ー No, Clear refused to finish that thought.
“Tae-san,” Reaching out, he gently placed a gloved hand over hers. Though she would be unable to see behind the mask, a determined and uncharacteristic seriousness settled on his features. His voice was soft, yet resolute,
“I will bring them both back.”
Already beginning to stand, he made to leave the kitchen. He would not be able to live with himself if he watched Tae-san slowly waste away from the stress for another day. She would be all alone without Aoba and that pain resonated with the android. He would not lose his master. But a firm hand grasped his sleeve, stopping him.
“Like hell you will. Toue, to you...they’ll-” Tae’s words died on her lips, but the implication was obvious. To be honest, Clear was not surprised in the slightest that she knew the truth. After learning of her past affiliation with the company he doubted a simple mask would be enough to fool her. Yet she never treated him any differently than the others, as if he was another grandson to her. The unconditional affection had warmed his heart, so similar to that of his grandfather. He rested his hand over hers once more, though this time he carefully removed her hold.
“You of all people should know I am the only one who can do this...who stands a chance, Tae-san.” Though dissatisfied with his answer, she was unable to deny his words. Not only was he a product of Toue, but only he could hear Aoba’s voice from such a distance. He would be able to find him without fail. Reluctant she may be, Tae-san nodded her approval and told him of the old entrance to Platinum Jail.
“I’ll be back before you know it~.” His usual cheerful tone returned in a small attempt to lighten the mood with a quick bow, “Thank you, Tae-san.”
With that he left the house, for once through the front door. Pausing outside, Clear strengthened his resolve as he gazed up at the rooftops. He would be returning to the one place that struck fear in his grandfather’s heart like no other. For his entire life he had been running from his makers, but now they held what was most precious to him. Clear was more than prepared to bring the entire city to its knees if that was what it took to bring his master home. Clenching his fists, Clear crouched before springing up to the cramped roofs of the Old Residential District. With any luck he would be at underground passage before nightfall.
With a flourish, Clear produced his vinyl umbrella from his pocket, holding it haphazardly against his shoulder. Behind his mask it was a bit more difficult to make out the curious glances of passersby. He certainly seemed to attract just as much attention in Platinum Jail as he did in the Old District. But despite the looks, Clear calmly made his way down the main street of the Aqua Forest District.
There was not a doubt in his mind that Toue knew he was here, or at least that something was wrong. It had not been easy to fell the guards at the gate’s entrance, even that irritating panda had given him trouble. But with a few skillful blows he had managed to incapacitate everyone and snatch a security pass in the process. Now he was past the gate and had yet to meet any other guards. Yet something left him feeling uneasy, as if the entire city waited with baited breath.
The Oval Tower loomed ever nearer and Clear attempted to hone his hearing in on the familiar voice of his master, but it proved more difficult than he had anticipated with the drone of the city around him. He would have to go in blind. Scoping out the back entrance, Clear noted the two guards standing at their posts. Two would hardly be an issue for him. After he shut his umbrella the android approached at a casual pace.
“Excuse me~! You would not happen to know where Aoba-san is, would you?” It was strange to say his master’s name, but in the heat of the moment it slipped out. The guards gave him hostile glances already preparing their batons as he neared.
“No? Ah, well...” With inhuman speed, Clear struck one, then the other at the napes of their necks with his umbrella. Their bodies fell with a solid thud, knocked out cold. For a moment, Clear eyed them with pity. Violence was never something he enjoyed resorting to. However the situation deemed it necessary as he sincerely doubted they would have let him waltz in. Passing his security card by the door, he let himself inside. A shudder ran through him as he eyed the pristine, elegant halls of the Oval Tower. He did not like this atmosphere, it was as if something was breathing down his neck, just out of view. But the android pressed on.
“Neee~! You don’t know where Aoba-san is either? Maybe Koujaku-san? No?”
With a pout, Clear slammed another guard in the back of the neck with the side of his hand. His body joined several others on the floor. By now an alarm was already echoing throughout the fourth floor, informing every guard within earshot of an intruder. What a pain, Clear had not intended to fight, he only wanted Aoba and Koujaku back. Each guard he confronted he asked the same question, but they merely laughed and attacked him with batons. It was more of a hassle than an actual struggle. In fact, Clear had more trouble controlling his strength than guarding himself. The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally break a neck in an attempt to subdue.
“H-Hey- Let me go! I have to find Aoba-san!”
Distracted by one guard, several pounced on him from behind, pinning him to the nearest wall. It took four men to hold him down with the level of strength he felt safe using. Unless he wanted to seriously harm one of the men he would not be able to get out of this one, though he continued to struggle in an attempt to shake them off. Meanwhile a larger guard approached, lazily swinging baton by his side. Unlike the previous weapons this one buzzed menacingly with an electrical current. Clear eyed it warily before the guard thrust it at the bare skin of his neck. A pained growl was muffled beneath Clear’s mask as the charge passed through his body with such intensity he swore his vision was flickering. The smell of synthetic skin, chemical and putrid, tinged the air as he was burned.
“L-let...me go-!”
He could have torn the men off with ease, but likely would have broken several of their bones in the process. The pain was bearable to avoid the violence, his skin would heal without any trouble. Still, tears pricked at his eyes as his entire body seized up, wiring not appreciating the electrical charge.
“Please! I....I have to find-”
“Clear.”
At the sound of his name, the android stilled. Beyond the guards he could not see him, but Clear knew that voice. His heart jumped at approaching footsteps, eager to finally see Aoba once again. In his joy he did not notice how the guards beside him seemed to tremble, eyes fixated on what he could not see with pure fear.
“M-master!” Through gritted teeth, Clear managed to call out, relief flooding his voice. He was alive, and, with any luck, perhaps Koujaku as well. They would escape here and return home, safe and sound, just as he promised.
“Fall.”
Something stirred within the android, something man-made and programmed at that single word. It was as if a leash was drawing him to that voice and Clear knew exactly what that draw was from. It was his master, yet it was not. Rather than the Aoba-san he had come to know, it was the ability he chose to repress. It was what had originally awoken him from his slumber. But something was different about this tone. It was smoother, colder and Clear felt a chill run through him. He watched as the body of the guard before him fell to the ground, the remaining guards around him releasing him at once to crumple to the floor as well. A gloved hand immediately went to his throat to assess the damage, drawing a pained hiss from his lips. Artificial blood and charred skin tarnished his glove as he drew it back. But Aoba’s voice stirred him from his pain,
“Yes, Master, I’ve-” Now, Clear truly froze, knees tucked up to his chest to pull away from whatever was before him. What his eyes beheld was not Aoba. It could not be. Skin so ghastly white it put his own to shame, and dressed in such unusual attire, this was not his master. But what truly struck Clear were the eyes. Gone were those warm, honey brown hues, replaced by pristine white. It was as if every trace of color, of life, had been washed away from his body. all except for the blood that trickled down from an icy smile. This was not Aoba. It could not be Aoba.
Yet he still held that captivating voice, the one that even now urged Clear to close the distance between them, to submit.
“N-no...Master?” This had to be some delusion, something haywire in his mind from the electricity. He could not have been too late, could he? Clear drew an unsteady breath, limbs feeling weak as he gazed up at his master.
“I...I’ve come to take you home, Master. You and Koujaku-san, we’re...” Even to his own ears his words sounded weak with shock as they trailed off. He just could not tear his eyes from his master’s. Those snowy orbs seemed to pin him down, knocking the air from his mechanical lungs.
This was not his Aoba. It could not be. This was wrong, all so terribly wrong.
♫ ー Clear had been entirely prepared to plead his case for the festival, promise Aoba any number of favors in return for attending with him. Thus to hear him reply so positively and without hesitation left the android rather dumbfounded for a moment. Coral eyes widened slightly, blinking as recognition settled in. He would be able to go to this magical celebration with Aoba?
“R-really? You mean it?!” Pout quickly fading into an overjoyed smile he released an almost childish squeal of happiness. Despite being in his twenties Clear continued to view the world with youthful eyes. Perhaps some found it irritating that he could be so carefree, but he could not contain himself. The world was an entirely new place to him, vivid and bright with Aoba at his side. He wanted to experience it all for the first time with his by his side.
“Thank you, Aoba-san!” Clear had never been one to restrain the urge for physical affection. In a rush he wrapped his arms around the slightly shorter male, pulling him close in a warm embrace. It never ceased to amaze Clear how well his body fit against Aoba’s, his head at the perfect height to nestle into the crook of his neck as though it was made to rest there.
“I’m so glad...thank you so much, Aoba-san.” His tone softened as he tenderly whispered his appreciation into Aoba’s ear. “I can’t wait to watch the fireworks with you.”
Though he was about to snuggle into Aoba’s neck a bit more he paused.
“Ehhh?! Aoba-san what happened? Did Noiz-san go rummaging through your room again while you were at work?”
Curiously eyeing the mountain of clothes and other belonging spilling out from his closet, Clear giggled. Surely Tae-san would be more than a little upset if she saw the mess, but it did appear as though someone had been searching for something. Releasing his hold on Aoba he swiftly stepped around to pluck at some crumpled fabric from the ground that seemed to be heaped away from the rest.
“Aoba-san, what’s this?” Shifting the sturdy material in his hands, Clear smoothed the fabric out, “Ah, a yukata?”
As he shook the wrinkles out an arm’s length away he was able to make out the intricate patterns. It had been some time since he had seen a yukata and memories flooded back to him. In his old age his grandfather had grown rather fond of the traditional attire. Vividly. Clear could recall walking to the beach with the elderly man; it was one of the few places that remained untouched in the Northern District. A fond, almost nostalgic expression captivated Clear’s features. He never thought a yukata would suit him, despite how his grandfather would try to get him to wear one. He felt too exposed in the simple style, not to mention the classic charm would have been lost with his gas mask. No doubt he would have looked like he stepped out of horror movie, but now... Absentmindedly a hand went to his face, slender fingers brushing lightly over his high cheekbones. Clear wondered if his grandfather would be pleased to see him considering the garb now, or too disappointed that he broke his promise to keep his mask on.
“-Ah!” Flustered, Clear shook himself from his thoughts as he sensed Aoba’s gaze upon him. With a cheery grin he held the yukata out to him,
“Is this what you were looking for? Are you...perhaps going to wear it?”
A hint of anticipation etched his voice, eager rosy eyes meeting Aoba’s with excitement. Mizuki had mentioned this was a more traditional festival, so would similar attire not be suitable? For some reason the idea of seeing Aoba in a yukata delighted the android. The one he now held certainly seemed like it would compliment his cerulean locks. To get a clearer visual, he held the garment up to Aoba, resting it against his shoulders. It was a bit awkward over his usual Brain Nuts jacket, but one could get the idea. A warm smile captured his lips as Clear admired the view. Traditional clothes suited Aoba.
“You would look...beautiful.” His words were almost breathless with sincerity, “You will wear it, won’t you, Aoba-san? Please?”
♫ ーFixated, dull eyes idled on the cityscape of Platinum Jail. Much like a corpse, they lacked focus. Vivid neon lights of the streets below could be seen reflected in ashen mauve hues, though not quite registering scenery. The buildings, the humans and their fleeting lives, all were irrelevant. No, Clear’s thoughts resided elsewhere as he lounged about one of the many rooms of the Oval Tower. It was much like a parlor, though contemporary in design with stiff furniture scattered about to admire the view. The android often found himself lingering here when he lacked a task to complete. While his brothers were preoccupied controlling the masses with their song, he preferred to stay inside. After all, his entire purpose remained caged in here as well, there was no reason to leave.
It had been a productive morning, the incisions were healing beautifully. He had cut away with such precision, in such a way that there would only be thin scars left across that porcelain skin. Once completely healed they would be hidden, it was a trivial matter. If he had so desired he could have gone in with a meat cleaver, quick and dirty, any abhorrent scars from the process would never be seen. But when it came to him, Clear approached with the utmost care. His gaze flickered down from entrancing lights to the hand that rested in his lap, the other supporting his head along the armrest of his chair. Pristine white gloves were now stained crimson in several spots, the color blossoming like flowers across the fabric. It was a breathtaking sight, as all things were that came from him. The blood had nearly clotted today when he had changed the bandages, it was almost a shame, he would miss the sight of those ruby flecks.
Nearly complete. He’s almost…perfect.
Footsteps, barely perceptible, echoed softly through the room, disrupting his thoughts. His gaze shifting once more, Clear studied the reflection of the intruder in the crystalline glass, vivid against the infinite night sky. The only sign of response was in the slight narrowing of his eyes, choosing to speak not a word. What would be the point in communing with one so utterly broken? Clear doubted he could even stir a word from him, psyche as fragile as it was. It was rare to even see him move beyond Toue’s office.
Sei…his twin.
He was of no consequence to the android, attention only for his brother. Yet he was a curious thing, damaged and used like some busted old toy. Would he have been that way, had he been left to Toue’s devices at birth? The thought lingered dully, leaving a bitter taste in Clear’s mouth. Better this one than his master. But as Sei approached tension left the android on edge, stiffening ever so slightly. Frail though he might be, Clear could still sense the body heat, the life that subtly pulsed beneath the skin only a couple feet away. At only an arm’s length away it would be a simple matter of extinguishing that warmth if he so desired. But he refrained, it would only be messy, a hassle, that was all. Humans were far too delicate.
“It’s supposed to snow today!”
The words were hardly more than a whisper, unsteady with fluttering breaths, but they were clear as day to his artificial senses. How curious. He could still speak. The unexpected response held his attention for but a moment, noticeable in the languid way his eyes settled coolly on Sei. Moments passed in silence and he swore he could hear that weak heart beating. It was not the same, and left Clear unsettled, as if it was some foreign frequency. Standing, Clear smoothed out his white button down shit, splattered similarly like his gloves. As he faced Sei his gaze was cold, apathetic. A gloved hand, bloodstained, slowly reached for him, features remaining unnaturally expressionless.
So easily…broken.
“Is that so, Sei-sama?” Sickeningly sweet, disturbingly gentle, the words flowed smoothly from his pale lips as the hand settled atop inky black locks. It was as if he were petting some pitiable animal, though Clear felt nothing at all. Though his tone held feigned interest, it was nothing more than a polite show, habits that remained from a past he cannot recall. His features softened into a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. It never did, not anymore.
“A shame you will never experience it for yourself.” Like a honey covered knife, his tongue drove the painful truth into the human before him, still smiling all the while. Fingers stroked Sei’s silken hair for a few moments more before falling mechanically back to his side. Perhaps another day he would wring that svelte neck and watch as his pale skin turned ashen. It might prove some amusement for a while. Something had to pass the time as he waited for flesh to mend.
Turning his back to Sei, Clear made his way from the room, footsteps resounding through the hollow space. He paused only at the door, hand resting on its frame as he glanced back. His smile still remained, like some sort of twisted mask, rigid and synthetic.
“I am going to see your dear brother, my Aoba-san, to make sure his pretty little heart has not stopped.”
Something akin to a laugh escaped his lips, though it held none of the warmth one would expect. But he was not human, incapable of expressing such liveliness. Each response was nothing more than programming, a facade. He let that thought remain in the room, fester in his stead so that Sei might know he was not alone. Perhaps now some might say he was even better off than his twin. At least he still had legs.
╔ @inkvcined ╝ ー ╔ attractiveness rating thing because tumblr is an ass and keeps eating my asks smh yoU CAN’T STOP ME FROM SHOWING MIZUKI THE LOVE HE DESERVES. >:c ╝
♫ ー “Mizuki-san is...hmm...a B+?” the android remarked, soft gaze settling upon his boss as he polished glasses behind the counter. “You have a beautiful heart. And the bar is so much brighter whenever you smile.”
Though his words were blunt, as if he was merely discussing the weather, his tone was honest, almost gentle. In the short time since he had started bartending at Black Needle, Clear had grown rather fond of the tattoo artist. Dare he say he found himself admiring not only his dedication to his work, but his passion and loyalty to those he cared about. He truly found those qualities beautiful in every sense of the word.
A blanket of white had overtaken the Old Residential District, wind howling through the crowded streets, biting at exposed skin. People bustled about, hurrying home to escape the bitter cold that seemed to grow more frigid with each passing day. Most seemed to dread the winter season, however there was one android in particular that was overjoyed by its arrival. Despite the cold, Clear found himself enchanted with the snow that fell in fluffy flakes from above, settling in pure white all around. He had always been fond of the season, often watching the snow fall in the past with his grandfather. But winter in the East District seemed far more beautiful, the snow remaining untainted by heaps of trash and debris. Behind the tinted lenses of his gas mask, coral hues were glittering with unrestrained delight, gazing up at the heavens as he trailed behind his master. It had become somewhat of routine of his to accompany Aoba home after his shift at Heibon, partially to keep an eye out for any other drive-by rhymers, but mostly because he enjoyed remaining at his side. While Clear usually pestered him with curious and often ridiculous questions, today he was far too enraptured by the falling snow. A cheerful tune was hummed behind his gas mas, little puffs of fog emitting from the valves with each breath. Carefully dodging confused passersby, the android almost appeared to be dancing, twirling about a few paces behind.
However at Aoba’s somewhat annoyed exclamation Clear nearly toppled over, teetering precariously on one foot as his arms flailed to regain his balance.
“Eeehhh?!~” You could almost see the little bursts of surprise in the air around him, tone rising as he drew out his shock, “B-but, Master, what is there to hate? Everything is so white and soft looking.”
Skipping ahead a few steps to match his stride, Clear leaned into Aoba imploringly. It was beyond his comprehension how one could detest the winter, but nevertheless a small bubble of guilt had formed for finding enjoyment in something his master was so obviously opposed to. But surely there had to be a reason and Clear’s insatiable curiosity urged him to find it.
“Do you not like the color white, Master?” There was a noticeable crestfallen tinge to his voice, fingers nervously plucking at a lock of his pale hair, “Or how night falls so quickly? Or- Ah!”
There was a sharp snap of gloved fingers as Clear stepped right in front of Aoba, nearly colliding with him.
“Do you not like the cold, is that it? Are you cold, Master?”
It was a simple matter for Clear to regulate his own body temperature in order to fend off the chill as an android. But he was aware that humans were not capable of the same. How foolish of him to not consider his Master’s health. Without a second thought, Clear shed his own scarf and began to wrap it snuggle around Aoba’s neck, completely disregarding his protests. It was his first and foremost priority to protect and serve his master, Clear would sooner remove his own skin before he allowed Aoba to go cold. Though as that would likely be a difficult task, he instead shrugged off his white trench coat and draped it over Aoba’s shoulders, somewhat haphazardly over his already bulky jacket. Just before he released his hold on him, the android dug through his coat pockets, tugging out his signature vinyl umbrella. With a soft rush of air he popped it open and held it over Aoba’s head, guarding him from the snowfall.
“There, a little warmer.” Though hidden beneath his mask, a satisfied smile could be heard in Clear’s voice, “Ah! And look, we’re almost to your house, Master! If you’d like, I could make you some tea once we’re inside, too.”
Perhaps it was bold of him to impose himself in his master’s kitchen. But seeing Aoba shivering as he was, Clear would hate to see him spill hot water all over himself with his hands unsteady from the cold. No, he would happily take it upon himself to see his master snugly and warm.
♫ ー Rosy eyes, wide as a doe’s, blinked in curiosity and naivety. The young android paused in his polishing of the bar counter top to give his boss his undivided attention. His morning training shift was winding down. The afternoon sun arched high over the Old Residential District of Midorijima island as Clear finished cleaning up Black Needle’s bar. Mizuki leaned against the counter beside him with a lopsided grin, intrigued by his inquisitiveness.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the fliers. They’re up all over the East District.”
Between training for his new bartending job and spending time with Aoba, Clear had not exactly had the chance to notice the local activity. Rather, he had not cared to notice. Life had already become utter bliss for him, the painful memories of past trauma seeming like nothing more than a dream. He was beyond content with his mundane life, his human life ー or as close to human a he could achieve. There was nothing more he could possibly ask for. Yet as Mizuki began to briefly explain exactly what these festivals entailed, Clear could not contain the bubble of excitement that seemed to swell up inside him.
“Games? Prizes? Food?! FIREWORKS?!”
His words were almost breathless, rising with the idea of each new experience. There appeared to be countless things in human life he had yet to behold. Sheltered as he had been by his grandfather, necessary given the circumstances, Clear had been locked away from many aspects of a normal life. However, when a certain someone had entered his life, woke him up from his slumber, it was as if he had stumbled into a whole new world. Everything had changed, he was but a new soul experiencing life for the first time, and it was all thanks to him.
“Usually people go with friends or family...” Mizuki paused to give the android a knowing glance with his pale green eyes, “or someone special.”
“Aoba-san!”
The name tumbled out instantly, as if reflexive. He was the first that came to mind at the thought of “someone special”, and he exclaimed his name without hesitation. With a soft chuckle, Mizuki ruffled Clear’s untamed, snow white hair, further disheveling it with his brotherly gesture. It was more than a little obvious how smitten Clear was with his childhood friend. Knowing his employee would only be distracted with this news, he let Clear out early. Much to Mizuki’s amusement, he bounded out the instant he was free, nearly knocking over a few glasses in his excitement. The door shut with a loud snap, cutting off a stream of apologies.
With hurried steps, Clear made his way out of Dry Juice’s turf and into the open streets of downtown. He made a beeline for Aoba’s house, pausing only to snatch a flier which proudly proclaimed the approaching evening’s festival from a lamppost. Information obtained, he ducked into an alley. Aoba had warned him on numerous occasions that jumping to inhuman heights in order to run across rooftops was not exactly normal in public. But surely it would be fine, so as long as he was not in the middle of the street. Crouching low, the android prepared himself before launching roughly thirty feet in the air with ease. An overjoyed laugh bubbled like a melody from his lips, thrilled with the rush of the wind around him and the prospect of his little trip. Bounding over rooftops, he headed in the direction that he knew by now he could travel blind. ー Clear made his way home.
“Aaaooobaaa-saaan!~”
Gloved fingers curled on the overhanging of a small veranda, creaking in protest to the sudden weight. With newfound momentum, Clear swung himself directly into Aoba’s room, landing with a solid thud. It was rather fortunate that the sliding doors had already been open or he likely would have crashed right through the glass. Immediately his gaze settled on his master, striding over to him as if his entrance had been entirely ordinary ー which for him it was.
“Look!” From his bottomless pockets he rummaged for the flier which he had safely tucked away. Pulling the crumpled paper out, Clear thrust it beneath his ash brown eyes with a flourish,
“Look at what Mizuki-san told me about! A festival! And it’s tonight! I was thinking...maybe we could go together?”
Cue a pleading gaze that made it appear like less of an offer and more like a last request, his lilting tone ending in a softer beg. The way his boss had described it made it seem almost magical, as though he would be spending the night traversing and entirely different world. It was one that Clear desired to share with no one else but Aoba. With a steady gaze he pouted slightly, awaiting his reply with baited breath and heart fluttering. How could Aoba say no?
