Mahiro eyed the disheveled looking man in front of him for a moment before gathering his thoughts. Could he really be a servant? When he sat and thought about all of the other servants he encountered, his own included, he couldn’t find it in himself to think it was impossible.
"I’m pretty sure my mother told me not to talk to strangers either."
"And by my standards, you’re as out of place as everyone else here so you fit right in with the rest of these weirdos."
Crimson eyes stared back at the blond, expression as dead as it had normally been before his death as he gave the magus a once-over. He had met a few of these so-called masters so far, and their determination was a common factor, but even among them there was something defiant in these eyes, almost as if rejecting the world itself.
"Well, you obviously don't listen to your mother much, since you spoke to me first, and didn't bother to introduce yourself, huh? I'm positively hurt, you're talking almost as if you're not one of 'these weirdos'."
What a flair for the dramatic sometimes, Gintoki.








