“Don’t, please.”
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“Hm.”
Tsukishima’s blade didn’t waver from where he held it easily in front of him, poised to strike. The smile slipped from his face. Tipping slowly to the side, his head turned to bring Riruka into his line of sight, keeping his unfortunately victim in his peripheral vision.
The man had become just another experiment of Book of the End, and Tsukishima had been watching him intently as he struggled to maintain his sanity under the weight of conflicting realities. He’d nearly reached his limits; he’d die from the strain too unless he released Book of the End’s effects.
Tsukishima raised his brows, adopting an exasperated and questioning expression.
“You don’t him to die,” he stated in his usual calm, unaffected tone. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the suffering individual. “if you want to make your case as for why, I suggest you be quick, Riruka.”












