| [Feb. 2nd, 2008|03:16 am] |
Sometimes it was hard to tell if Haruichi was being touchy because he was Haruichi and his default status in life was touchy, or because you'd clipped a nerve. Eyeing the glassware in question, Raidou was willing to tender a wager on the latter. Score one, Namiashi. Not that he was actually aiming for points. Much. Raidou let it go. Teasing was all well and good, but teasing someone about their looks was a slippery slope that led straight back to acid scars and a lack of happy places.
Still, glasses. On a Hyuuga. Snerk.
He lifted an eyebrow at Haruichi's next question, slightly surprised. "Yeah, he is. He's--" my favourite mission partner, my neighbour, my friend, the reason Minamoto's lacking for current jaw function, "--still breathing. Doing fairly well, actually. I'm running a mission with him in the morning." Or he would be, just as soon as he stepped up to volunteer.
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