@digiitalis
“Tch.”
Of all the places for him to end up, he was outside a high school feeling like a creep. There was NO WAY that Kurama was here -- he wasn’t sure why he’d remained when his feet had stopped. And yet, every instinct screamed at him that Kurama was present beyond the walls of the school. Was he playing at being human?
Fuck. He didn’t even know if Kurama was actually alive or if the prototype device in his grasp was malfunctioning. He’d come to the Ningenkai on a whim. There were whispers that a thief was under the employ of the Reikai. Was it his thief? The curled lock of Kurama’s white hair was pressed tightly within the device, which then read his spirit energy. Or some shit.
Kuronue felt people glancing at him curiously and glowered at them over his sunglasses. Fucking daylight was too bright. Certainly it had nothing to do with the fact that there was a young man -- a little too old for high school -- standing near the gates to the school. Probably was. Probably was the way he was dressed; tight dark pants (jeans?), boots, something called a blazer in black and a button down in dark blue (he’d thought he’d done well, but maybe he’d fucked up).
He leaned against the wall near the entrance and relaxed his control over his spiritual energy just a touch. If Kurama WAS here, he’d know. If not, well a Detective might come for a scrap.
