(the tears haven't stopped falling down his cheeks, even if he tries his best to keep his voice and demeanour contained. fuck, he needs a cigarette. baji can't fucking say shit about that one - his first was by the other's side, anyway. still without looking, he leaves the pack with his lighter next to him, as a peace offering, once he's done dragging on his own stick.

for now.)

I didn't feel a thing later because I killed myself, Baji. I jumped from a roof. Takemitchy held my hand, bleeding, and we argued while I dangled. Then, I was here. It's-- it's like both, now. I'm present just enough. I have killed many, and I've ordered Sanzu to kill many. Never weighted on my consciousness.