A soft giggle slips her lips as piercing reds scan the boy up and down, monitoring his every movement with careful calculation. Every word he spoke, every twitch, every blink, every breath; she’d seen it and noted it in her brain, carefully reevaluating him with every small change.
As of now, she found him to be amusing, at the most. Not particularly dangerous nor superiorly intelligent; it seemed that he, as of now, would be of little use to her, regardless how entertaining he was.
Seeing his arms drawn back and shoulders hunching ever so slightly, it sent a small tingle through her bones. Though he was certainly taller, his response made him look smaller, weaker, frailer in comparison to herself. Surely she could easily crush him if she so felt like doing so, simple as smashing glass at her heel.
But she wouldn’t do so until this was finished, at least. He couldn’t count as a sample if he was dead, of course.
And his apprehension in reaction to her gift was good one, albeit a rather normal and easily expected. Of course, what her anticipation grew for was whatever would come after. Would it be disgust? Would it be anger? Sadness? Horror? Even after repeating the same thing over and over and over, she was still unable to predict so supposedly simple as that. Predict a single emotion.
Her incorrect streak was despairingly long.
But she could just kill him if she was wrong again.
{{ ♟ }} –- “Organs.”
She answered as though it were incredibly obvious, giving the bag a firm shake, in response to which the contents gave a disgusting squelch and gurgle, flecks of red flying from the saturated fabric as she did so.
{{ ♟ }} –- “From people, of course.”
Surely, she spoke, and words came out of her mouth. But he gives her a brief, blank stare. It's like his mind was trying to process what just came out of her mouth. It just didn't make any sense. The absolute monstrosity of evisceration doesn't come into his mind as a jolt of lightening, like she may of anticipated. His brows furrow and his shoulders drop.
Her expression shows she's happy. How could she be happy, when she just committed a crime. And why would she be telling him what she has done? It doesn't make any sense. The confused look grows, like a festering infection in Hajime's brain.
That's when the smell hits him, and things begin to kick in. The amount of emotional change on his mind and body is rapid in succession. He goes from confused, to horrified with a drop of the hat. He can smell it, and the iron isn't pleasant on the nose, especially not combined with the rot and his own personal fear.
{ No. This must be wrong. }
The noise makes him shudder, and he is disgusted. Hajime grows green in the face, like he's going to lose every bit of content in his stomach and gut, down to the acid. A hand flies to his face and he pinches his nose, he feels scared, and disgusted. If she could do that, what else could she do?
“Wh... What have you done.. I.. No. This doesn't make any sense.” He tries to force his voice to be hushed, because if he screams, it could agitate her. And she looks to not be in the mood to be agitated, especially with that blade in her hand. “You shouldn't have that. Where did you get it from.” He wont even use the words...!
Hajime sounds certainly upset, and maybe even mad. He's clearly disgusted with her. And he's clearly afraid of her. Like a mouse before the wolf.
