pinkballoftreble
For once, it seemed Yato had hit the nail on the head with this advertising thing--though Yukine would much prefer it if he didn’t have to get involved himself. “Oh... you actually want some?” He blinks at the stranger, bag of sweets (Yato’s phone number and typical slogan scrawled on the packet) held out to him with bewildered look. “Here you go.” Probably, the guy wouldn’t see the note, and it’d turn out as useless a strategy as any.

















