#DARK VC I'VE ALWAYS LISTENED! IGNORING WHAT YOU SAY AND BEING ANNOYING ON PURPOSE IS DIFFERENT!!

[dnangelic]

' sure , sure . ' he happily coos , he cheekily hums ! should he have taken sakura's threat of throwing him out with or without imagining her cracking open the door and peeking out to check up on him after a certain amount of time had passed ? whatever the case , he didn't doubt that she certainly would have kept her word and tossed him out the instant he took a step too far out of line . and yet , therein loitered the prick of it all ---

' of course , that's only if you could ever manage to catch me to throw me out by hand . ' he'd rather have raced in circles across sakura's walls and ceiling with the apartment's owner in hot pursuit of him than ever readily submit himself now . how was that for sounding sure of himself ? ' --- but , well , don't worry . even if the uniform was yours , it's not like you'd ever notice . it's not like a phantom thief to leave behind messy tracks , hmm ? ' in other words , neither a confirmation nor a denial : things were more fun and deliciously frustrating this way .

' now , now --- hold the applause , too ! ' oh , the way he could have tossed a handkerchief for sakura to tearfully flap at him ! ' the great dark mousy will never retire . if not in the flesh , then as a well-loved legend , one cherished by all around the world . ' in his forty year absence the police force had never been so mocked and been made fools out of ; likewise , he's sure that the hearts of all his adoring , outrageous fans prayed only for his continued freedom and success .

an absurd pomp whose grandeur pops a little at sakura's grunt . for an instant , azumano's fallen angel only blinks across at the other . there's the obvious : asking why , if sakura's preference in moniker wasn't a matter of formality and thereby wasn't likely a matter of intimacy , either ... but he knows better than to touch and pry at spaces that he could recognize .

sakura , as an ordinary human being with no sort of involvement with his other sides , had only ever called the "thing" in front of her "dark" , after all .

' ... hmm . ' he contemplates for an instant . deeply , thoughtfully . ' no problem , then . sakura-chan , sakura-tan ... ' a groundshaking , grin-inducing epiphany apparent .

' --- sakura-nyan . '

“Who in the hell’s cryin’ over you—!!!”

Ohhh, if she had any pillows or anything, maybe even one’a her shoes, she’d be lobbin’em at his goddamn head right now!!!! Now she’s not so sure of nothin’, he’s wastin’ the good fortune she was givin’im by being like this!!!

“Don’t you sound so sure of yourself, either; if ya piss me off enough, I’ll throw you out myself in a heartbeat!!”

And yet, she’s proved exactly the opposite—not just now, but time and time again. The only solace she finds is that she knows, if he truly ever did do something to warrant getting thrown out, it wouldn’t be a lie then.

Regardless, though, it’s whatever; he’s already walkin’ back from the door, so it hopefully doesn’t matter what gets said anymore. She makes sure to keep an eye on him (because if she doesn’t, then what if...?), scrutiny picking up the little twitches of his wings but not having enough foresight to know why they do it. At least, not any foresight he’s elected to tell her about—she has her ideas, but she’s not sure, so they haven’t gone voiced.

Another whatever, maybe surely. Not everything means something; not everything has to.

(She has a feeling she knows, though, anyway.)

“...it better not’ve been my uniform.” Is what she says first; not that a whole lot has to be said about it. The people of Makochi gave shit out all the time, no matter who was the one walkin’ around. The warning is weak, though, anyway, if only because her clothes haven’t shown any signs of bein’ stretched out over long limbs and tall spines; either he’s lying again, or the uniform he found just wasn’t hers. “But, damn, if only you could’a been convinced. The world’s cryin’ because one little phantom thief hasn’t been stopped in his tracks, what’ll we do~?”

Despite her emphasis in some places, she delivers the words with as much deadpan, sarcastic drawl as she can muster; she has her own humour, yanno!

“It ain’t about formality, though.” She grunts out, following in his path to go and drop down by her futon; there’s maybe an arm’s reach between’em, her legs brought up beside’er so she can put an elbow on a knee and lean against the hand, but the space is enough for her. She’s facin’ him, too, so he can’t even complain (better not, at least).

“Couldn’t give a shit if ya use anythin’ after ‘Sakura’; ‘s long as it ain’t my given name, just use whatever.”

She couldn’t give a damn about formality or language rules or whatever the hell else. It’s just...personal.