[ he dithers for a long while before setting pen to paper. khoriya does not know if junpei is truly lost to them, given himself wholly to zlatka's power and dominance, or if he might yet be drawn back from her thrall. perhap it does not matter. after all, the whelp has made his choice.
and yet.
written on a scrap of paper in a block hand and slid beneath junpei's door: ]
earlyish november, shortly before khoriya tromps off into the void
and yet.
written on a scrap of paper in a block hand and slid beneath junpei's door: ]
Be good while I am gone, little pup.