Open A night out in the town

[Kureji]

Later that night after the whole fiasco with the full blown battle that happened earlier that day, Kureji found himself in a quiet bar and grill place sitting in a corner with his guitar. He sustained nearly zero injuries with the exception of a few scrapes and bruises, but he got off way better than most of the Sand shinobi force. There were rumors going about him. Mostly of how crazy he is, which was true. But it made nearly everyone wary of him as he had single handedly, took out three people, one of which was controlling fearsome creatures under their command just by summoning more creatures and monsters.

He's been referred to as a loose canon, which is to say something, considering that during that same conflict, Akkuma, his father, nuked everyone, friend and foe alike. Kureji very well could do something on a bigger scale. Heck, he himself had nuked Crater City. But his gears were turning about Golden Sanctuary.... An underground place. He could really let loose in there. But considering how he already owes a debt for causing so much destruction, he may have to talk to the leadership first about that. If they don't care, he'll really let loose. If they want to minimize destruction, he'll begrudgingly will try and minimize the damage.

Then the thoughts went on to these supposed twins. He absent mindedly struck some chords on his guitar as he relished at the thought of what he would do to them. What did they do to him to deserve these dark thoughts? Nothing really. Not even them threatening his old stomping grounds, aka his old home, has warranted such thoughts, no. No, what warranted these thoughts was the fact that these people traffic other people. To Kureji, who has now made it his whole persona to be free and strive for a truly free world, this is something that he cannot overlook. He smiled creepily to himself as he thoughtlessly struck some chords and fantasized about new ways to deal with these Twins in fun and creative ways. Though... Perhaps he was too focused....

He looked around to see some people may have been effected in some way by his powers. The twitch of the eyes, the clutching of fists, the feral look that some people might have looking at others, almost as if they're ready to lunge. Yes a genjutsu user that can mess with reality is also insane. Not a good combination to have. He pushed those dark thoughts off to the side and thought about food. Immediately the tone of the place shifted back to normal. Kureji decided to get a giant bacon cheeseburger with some chili cheese fries. After ordering his food he would lean back in his booth and think about how hungry he is.

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

The bar’s door opened slowly, not from hesitation, but from weight.

Stone dust still clung to my sleeves, and tangled in my hair which was still pulled back in a loose and messy bun, settling into the seams of my clothes no matter how many times I brushed at it. I carried the smell of earth with me when I stepped inside, which fucking stank. I smelled like dry sand, crushed rock, the lingering breath of the tunnels. Hours spent in the exposed underground, clearing collapsed passages so the mobile village could move again. So it could breathe.

I paused just inside the threshold.

Warmth hit me first. Lantern light. Low voices. The muted clink of glass on wood. After the oppressive stillness below, the sound felt distant, almost unreal. I felt my shoulders ease as the door closed behind me, sealing away the groan of shifting stone and the memory of tunnels that had tried to bury the living.

I scanned the room out of habit—not for threats, but for patterns. Who was loud. Who was quiet. Who kept their back to the wall.

And then I saw him.

Mother Fucking Kureji.

My eyes rolled, but it was fine because he looked older than the memory I carried of him. A chuckle slipped from my snide grin. The posture was the same. The presence hadn’t faded, only settled deeper, like someone who had survived long enough to become part of the landscape instead of being shaped by it.

He didn’t look at me, rude.

Of course he didn’t.

I moved farther in, boots leaving faint chalky prints on the floor before I noticed and brushed them away with the edge of my heel. My hands ached, chakra exhaustion humming beneath my skin. Clearing debris wasn’t glorious work. It was slow. Boring. Dangerous in ways battle never was. One mistake and the ceiling came down. One misjudgment and the tunnels sealed forever.

I chose a seat that gave me a clear view of the room without putting me at its center. A habit learned long before this body existed.

Only then did I let myself breathe. The bar sounded like a village still standing. People who had survived the day, even if they didn’t yet know how close the ground had come to swallowing them whole. My gaze drifted back to that bitch, Kureji. I bet he didn’t know who I was.

That was fine.

But it wouldn't last for long.

[MFT:250+]

 

[Kureji]

As he waited for his food, he absentmindedly would play some chords on his guitar, occasionally looking around to see if his food had come yet or if anyone has paid him any attention. Attention is always something that Kureji has to be selective about. He may be a rocker who wants all eyes on him as they rock out with him. But he's also no idiot. A missing ninja just casually hanging around the very Village that he left. By all accounts, he had left as quietly as possible, to which it would be hard to pin him as a person that nuked from here unless they did some extensive research on him. Not impossible, but rather difficult. His changing bodies nearly like clothes also helps.

But this body he has now... He bent reality itself to give himself a new look. But either way, he knew to look for the signs. And.... Well he did catch a pair of eyes staring at him. Some cute woman. He feels like he should know her. But due to his lifestyle and chaotic nature, he doesn't really remember where he seen her before. So he did the next best thing. He smiled at her and waved. And just a mere second after he waved at her the waiter came by with his food. Kureji's eyes lit up and could feel his mouth salivating.

Priorities! Food first! The bacon cheeseburger was as big as his head! He would look at it in awe before turning his attention to the chili cheese fries. They smelled amazing! He ate a couple and felt like he was floating. Finally, he attacked the cheeseburger. Every bite made him love every bit of it. He was sure that if someone tried to take his food, he would fight them for it. Of course, the waiter would come by and ask him how the food was when his mouth was full. How is it that they always seem to do that? It sure seems like a superpower! He merely made out a nod as he demolished the food. The thing is, being out and selling yourself as a freelance worker, a mercenary, means some days you go hungry.

Kureji has been rather selective of his money until very recently, using the excuse that he'll eventually get paid by sand officials by doing these missions against the Baron twins, that he can both pay off a debt and not worry about food at the same time!

After finishing his food, he cleaned himself up to see that woman was still staring at him. So he naturally walked up and then said, "Cool if I sit here?"

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

As Kureji approached, I raised an eyebrow, a glass of water finally arriving at my table. I watched the condensation bead down the side of the glass, suddenly aware of how parched I'd been.

"Sure, why not."

I gave an arrogant grin, leaning back in my chair with deliberate casualness.

"Gonna buy a girl something to eat, or are you going to go on about freedom and shit again?"

My physical form was hungry. It was always hungry. A sensation I was not used to—this constant gnawing need that never seemed satisfied. But the craving to punch someone? That remained constant, familiar, almost comforting in its consistency. I would take a sip of my water and set it down with a soft clink against the table. The cool liquid did little to settle the restlessness coiling in my gut. I looked over to the waitress who was helping another table, her attention completely occupied by a group of loud patrons.

"Hey, dollface. Get me something to eat, put it on this guy's tab alright?"

I gestured lazily toward Kureji with my thumb, not bothering to look at him as I spoke. The waitress glanced over, caught my eye, and gave a quick nod before returning to her current customers.

I looked back to Kureji, letting my gaze settle on him with undisguised scrutiny. There was something off about his timing, showing up here like this.

"Why are you back in Sunagakure? Last time you were here you gave a half-ass concert and your groupie wanted to jump a bunch of kids out in what—Soon's Haven, was it?"

My eyes narrowed accusatorily, my fingers drumming once against the table. I didn't trust him. Not then, not now. People like him always had an angle, always wanted something. And I'd be damned if I let myself get played without seeing it coming.

 

[Kureji]

"You gotta say please first," Kureji told her as he sat down. He waited as the woman ordered some food and then he started talking, "So I noticed you staring at me-" He was cut off as the woman asked why he was in Suna and the last time he was here, he gave a half assed concert and him and his groupie jumped some kids?

He took offense, to only one of those things. "Hey, I don't half ass. I either full ass, or no ass." He paused after he said that, "That sounds weird but that is besides the point. As for groupie... I think you are using the word wrong. A groupie is a bunch of fans that would follow a celebrity in hopes that they would meet and talk to them or get an autograph. Which I'm flatterred if you were actually using the word right, if you were assuming I was famous enough back then, which I admit that I wasn't. As for jumping kids?" He gave her a look of disbelief, "We have our own code of honor to live by, and whilst it may look like it on a separate perspective, me and my own will only tango with the ones that actually will fight."

He leaned back in his chair, "Like them bozo's that attacked the Village earlier today. Some dude was controlling these fantastic beasts and monsters against their will till I showed up and called upon all the wild sand worms. I then rode on the back of this giant flying sand manta ray and it felt AMAZING!" He kept talking passionately as if they aren't even remotely close to being enemies.

"Those people deserved every bit of karma that came to em. Controlling beasts that magnificent is a crime! I even kicked one of them into the mouth of a sandworm for him to pay for his crimes! Now I just gotta get my hands on those twin people." He smiled and she probably could even see his eyes sparkle with mischief on what he could do to these people. "I could drive them insane, blow them up, or even stuff them in my guitar.... Though.... I'll save you the details." That last one.... Yeah, he stuffed a person in his guitar. Let's just say that even by his standards, that may have been a bit messed up.

"As for why I'm here, I'm here to get money, kick some ass, and talk to my old man." He looked at her as he stopped talking and examined her face, "You look familiar... Have we met before?"

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

I let out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through his passionate rambling about sand worms and manta rays. My fingers stopped drumming against the table as I leaned forward, elbows resting on the worn wood.

"Full ass or no ass. Right."

My grin turned sharper, more predatory.

"And here I thought you were just blowing smoke up everyone's ass that day in Soon's Haven."

The waitress returned with my food—some kind of sandwich piled high with meat and vegetables. I didn't wait for pleasantries, just grabbed it and took a bite, chewing deliberately while keeping my eyes fixed on him. Let him squirm a little under the scrutiny. The flavors hit my tongue and I had to suppress the urge to devour the entire thing in seconds. This constant hunger was still something I was adjusting to—having a body that demanded fuel, that needed sustenance beyond just chakra and willpower.

When I swallowed, I pointed at him with the sandwich still in hand.

"You want to know if we've met? Yeah, we've met. But I looked different then. Taller. Male. Actually I was my brother—who was way too patient with your bullshit."

I took another bite, watching his face for recognition. Would he remember? Did it even matter if he did? The sandwich was good—really fuuucking good—but I forced myself to pace it, to not look like some starving animal even though that's exactly what this body felt like half the time.

"Chikamatsu Shin. That name ring any bells in that chaotic fucking head of yours? Or were you too busy doing lines with people on guitars to remember the only Sunan who actually gave a damn about your 'code of honor'?"

My tone carried an edge, but underneath it was something else—curiosity, maybe. Or the faint echo of whatever connection Shin had felt toward this maniac. I set the sandwich down and leaned back, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I was there, Kureji. In Soon's Haven. I saw the whole damn thing. The concert, the aftermath, all of it. I just wasn't in the driver's seat at the time."

I paused, letting that sink in. How did you explain being someone's inner demon made flesh? How did you tell someone that you used to exist only in the dark corners of another person's mind, whispering violence and fury into their thoughts?

"Shin and I... we shared the same body. Same mind. I was the part of him he kept locked away, the part that wanted to rip and tear and burn every—fucking—thing that pissed us off. He was the reasonable one. The one who gave people like you second chances when you didn't deserve them."

I picked up my water glass and took a long drink, washing down the sandwich and buying myself a moment to gauge his reaction.

"But things changed. Bodies change. Now I've got my own, thanks to my twin brother's insane genius with like medical shit or puppetry, and his damn homunculi creations. So here I am—Kohana. Former rage demon, shadow of the Overseer, Persona of the Kazekage... current... well, I'm still figuring that part out."

I gestured vaguely at myself with my free hand.

"So yeah, we've met. You just didn't know I was watching. And now you owe me a meal, so I guess we're even. For now."

 

[Kureji]

Kureji would listen as the woman would talk about who she is, kind of going into a whole monologue of the whole thing. He only interrupted her once when she asked if he knew someone by the name of Chikamatsu Shin.

"Sounds familiar but doesn't really ring any bells." He would say plainly. He would listen as she would finish her little speech. He would clap and applaud her. "Sounds like you came to the right person" He would say. He didn't really get that two souls in one body thing.... Well.... Actually, he does. He's learned all about the dark arts of putting one soul in a separate body but he's never heard of two souls one body. It won't be impossible, but rather more so unlikely.

"Music. It reaches into your very soul and gets you moving to the beat of things. It tells you who you are all the while being subtle about it. First and foremost, we have to find what genre of music best suits you. Everyone has different tastes and all music is good in their own way." He would take his guitar and strum some chords.

"For me. I am all about living life to the fullest and being free. I am for the most part, unfiltered and would tell it how I see it. Rock and roll speaks to me in volumes in such ways that only people who can think like me would feel. That and there's some insane guitar riffs that are just absolutely amazing!" He would hand the guitar over to Kohana, "Give it a try."

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

I stared at the guitar he thrust toward me, then back up at his face, trying to figure out if he was fucking with me.

"Did you just... completely miss the part where I told you I used to be a literal rage demon?"

My hand hesitated over the instrument. The wood was worn smooth from use, marked with scratches and dents that told stories I couldn't read. I took it carefully, more out of curiosity than any real desire to play. The weight of it felt foreign in my hands—heavier than a kunai, lighter than a puppet's control bar.

"I don't know shit about music, Kureji. Shin was the artistic one. He did poetry, calligraphy, all that fancy bullshit."

I positioned the guitar awkwardly across my lap, fingers hovering over the strings like they might bite. The posture felt wrong, unnatural. Everything about this felt wrong.

"I was the part of him that wanted to punch people in the face until they stopped moving. That was my genre. Violence. Chaos. The sound of bones breaking and people screaming."

But even as I said it, my fingers pressed down on the strings experimentally, producing a discordant twang that made me wince. I tried adjusting my grip, mimicking the way I'd seen him hold it moments before.

"Though I guess that's the problem, isn't it? I don't have Shin's memories to fall back on anymore. No inherited skills, no borrowed experiences. Just... this." I gestured at myself with one hand while the other stayed on the guitar. "A body that's constantly hungry, constantly restless, constantly trying to figure out what the fuck it's supposed to be now that it's not just the monster in someone else's head."

I looked down at the instrument again, jaw clenched.

"So yeah. Maybe music is a place to start. Or maybe I'll just break your guitar. Fifty-fifty odds at this point."

Despite the harsh words, I didn't hand it back. My fingers moved again, searching for something that didn't sound like complete garbage.

 

[Kureji]

Kohana had looked at him like he's stupid or something before voicing her own concerns. He shrugged, "What you used to be doesn't have to be who you are now. That's the beauty of music. It does so much more than act as a hobby or an entertainment. So many people connect to it because it helps them through tough times. Or it builds them up to who they are now. Who you are, Kohana, is a different person than who you were yesterday." It was probably one of the only ever wise things that he has said.

He then laughed and then said, "I am appalled that you would compare my music to being close to fancy shmancy kind of stuff. That is another thing. There is no refined community that holds a say to any genre of music. It all exists with one another and open for everyone to enjoy." He would rest his chin on his hands as he would look into her eyes as she explained who she thought that she was. "That's so metal. Metal is even more pronounced than rock and roll and, if you can believe it, is more raw and forthcoming of emotion, mainly that comes out as anger or wanting to really stand up and yell at the top of your lungs."

She then seemed to understand that she is basically on her own. "So tell me, who are you then?" The tone in his voice would suggest more than just asking her name. He now knows it, for now, but it was more to ask her to search within herself. "What do you want?" He would wait patiently as she would strum the chords and he would smile as she seemed to be good for someone that hasn't touched a guitar.

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

I stopped mid-strum, fingers frozen on the strings. His questions hung in the air between us like he'd just dropped some profound truth bomb that was supposed to shake my world.

"Who am I? What do I want?"

I let out a sharp bark of laughter that made a few nearby patrons glance our way.

"Oh, so now we're doing therapy sessions? Should I lie down on a couch while you psychoanalyze me with your guitar?"

But my fingers were already moving across the strings again, angry and clumsy, producing discordant sounds that somehow felt more honest than anything pretty would've been. I kept at it, refusing to let the awkwardness of not knowing what I was doing stop me.

"Metal. Raw and forthcoming. Anger and screaming." I repeated his words with a sneer, but there was something in my voice... recognition, maybe. "Yeah, okay. That doesn't sound completely terrible."

Another strum, harder this time. The strings bit into my fingertips and I welcomed the sting.

"You want to know what I want? Fine. I want to stop feeling like I'm wearing someone else's skin. I want to hit something without wondering if it's what Shin would've done. I want to make choices that are mine, not borrowed, not inherited, not some leftover instinct from being stuck in someone's fucking head for years."

I adjusted my grip on the guitar, copying his hand position with more aggression than finesse.

"Shin spent his entire existence being the responsible one. The perfect puppet master. The Kazekage everyone could count on. Always thinking three steps ahead, always considering the consequences, always playing the long game."

My fingers fumbled through another chord progression. It sounded like garbage, but I kept going anyway.

"I was always screaming in the background. The part that wanted to burn it all down just to see what would rise from the ashes. The violence he kept locked away because it wasn't 'appropriate' for someone in his position."

I looked up at him with a fierce grin, eyes blazing.

"And you know what the really fucked up part is? Now that I've got my own body, now that I can actually do whatever the hell I want without dragging Shin down with me... I don't know what that is. I spent so long being the monster he kept chained up that I never thought about what I'd do if someone actually let me off the leash."

Another strum, and this time something almost resembling a melody emerged from the chaos.

"So yeah, Kureji. Who am I? I'm still figuring that shit out. What do I want? To stop feeling like I'm waiting for instructions on how to exist."

I played through another sequence, my fingers starting to find a rhythm even if they didn't know the right notes yet.

"But here's what I do know, I'm done apologizing for taking up space. I'm done second-guessing every impulse. And I'm definitely done with anyone trying to tell me who I should be based on who I was."

I looked at him directly, challenge written across my face.

"You said metal is about emotion. About standing up and yelling at the top of your lungs. About being raw and unfiltered."

Then something shifted in my expression, a wild spark that Shin would've immediately tried to suppress.

"You wanna see metal?"

I stood up abruptly, guitar still in hand, and scanned the bar with predatory focus. My eyes locked onto a guy near the back, broad shoulders, the telltale posture of someone who knew how to fight, probably a shinobi based on the way he carried himself. The kind of asshole who thought he owned whatever space he occupied.

Perfect.

I started walking toward him, weighing the guitar in my hands like I was testing its balance. The wood felt solid. Heavy enough to make an impact.

"Raw and forthcoming, right?" I called back to Kureji without looking, my grin widening. "Let's see how this thing sounds when you really commit to the performance."

The guy didn't even see me coming.

CRACK

The guitar connected with the back of his head with a satisfying crunch of wood meeting skull. He went down like a sack of rocks, his drink shattering on the floor beside him. The entire bar went silent.

I stood over him, breathing hard, the now-cracked guitar still gripped in both hands. Adrenaline sang through my veins, finally, something that felt right.

I turned back to Kureji, eyes bright with violence and a devilish grin that pushing close to joy.

"That metal enough for you?"

 

[Kureji]

The silence was deafening. Frankly, Kureji wasn't really expecting that. He figured that all village shinobi were responsible rule followers that were too uptight to even give in to random impulses. He was wrong. He was the first to break the silence as he hysterically laughed, "Oh shit. I didn't think that you would do something like that!" He wiped a tear from his eyes but then focused on people starting to gather around Kohana. He smiled as he scooped Kohana up in his arms and ran out as people were yelling and throwing things.

He wouldn't stop until they were out of sight in a back alley and he had set her down on the ground. He was giggling a bit as he looked at her. "That was...." He trailed off, leaving her to guess what he is going to say, "EPIC! You should have seen how angry that guy's buddies were." Kureji looked down at the ruined guitar and back up at her while he smiled, "Now that was metal!"

Kureji would let Kohana gather her own thoughts before he would ask her, "How ya feel? Got some of those feelings out finally. Now you're you. I gotta say, you're a natural! Now we gotta get you your own guitar and so you can really learn to shred those chords!

He would lean against the wall of a building, putting his hands in his pockets. There was something that she had said back in the bar and grill. That she was done apologizing for taking up space. Kureji felt that. He wanted to help those who didn't fit in with Village society. Ultimately, it is up to each individual what they want to do with their lives and he doesn't hold it against them if they choose one way or another. He would look at her in her eyes as he would say, "I don't think that you're a waste of space. You deserve to be here and exist. And you should never apologize for existing." He smiled at her, but this was a more genuine smile than his usual crazed smiles.

 

[Chikamatsu Kohana]

The silence was deafening for about half a second before all hell broke loose.

People started shouting, chairs scraped against the floor, and I could see the guy's buddies scrambling to their feet. That's when Kureji scooped me up like I weighed nothing, and my first instinct kicked in—but not to fight him.

"THAT'S RIGHT, YOU FUCKING PUSSIES!" I screamed over Kureji's shoulder as he bolted for the door, my middle fingers raised high in the air. "YOUR BOY GOT DROPPED BY A GIRL WITH A FUCKING GUITAR! HOW'S THAT FEEL?!"

Something—probably a glass—shattered against the doorframe as we burst through it.

"WHAT, YOU GONNA CRY ABOUT IT?! COME ON THEN! I'LL PUT THE REST OF YOU DIPSHITS IN THE DIRT TOO!" I was still shouting, still flipping them off with both hands as Kureji carried me down the street. "BET NONE OF YOU WEAK FUCKS HAVE THE BALLS TO ACTUALLY FOLLOW US OUT HERE!"

More shouting behind us. Someone was definitely calling for peacekeepers now.

"YEAH, GO GET THE AUTHORITIES! TELL THEM CHIKAMATSU KOHANA JUST GAVE YOUR FRIEND A FREE FUCKING LOBOTOMY! TELL THEM THE KAZEKAGE'S SISTER THINKS YOU'RE ALL WORTHLESS SACKS OF SHIT!"

Kureji was laughing, actually hysterically laughing, as he ran, which only made me more fired up.

"YOUR BUDDY'S GONNA WAKE UP TOMORROW WITH A HEADACHE AND THE MEMORY OF GETTING HIS ASS BEAT BY SOMEONE HALF HIS SIZE! ENJOY THAT FUCKING EMBARRASSMENT!"

I caught a glimpse of them still gathering at the bar entrance, none of them actually chasing us.

"THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT! ALL BARK, NO BITE! BUNCH OF COWARDS!"

He didn't stop running until we were deep in a back alley, finally setting me down on solid ground. My heart was pounding, adrenaline still singing through every nerve. I was still laughing, not the polite kind either. The kind that came from somewhere deep and genuine, raw and unfiltered. The kind Shin would've locked down immediately because it made him sound unhinged. It was in this moment that sensation of hunger I had experienced since I was given this form was gone.

Fuck, maybe I was unhinged.

"Epic?" I repeated his earlier assessment, still gripping the cracked guitar like a trophy. "That was fucking necessary."

I examined the damage to the instrument—splintered wood, a crack running down the neck, strings hanging loose. It was beautiful in its destruction. A physical representation of what I'd just done: taken something meant for creation and turned it into a weapon.

"You know what the best part was?" I looked up at him, eyes still bright with violence and something close to euphoria. "I didn't hesitate. Didn't second-guess. Didn't stop to wonder if Shin would approve or if it was the 'right' choice. I just... did it."

I turned the guitar over in my hands, running my fingers along the crack.

"This whole time, I've been walking around in this body wondering who the fuck I'm supposed to be now that I'm not just the voice in someone's head. And you know what? Smashing this guitar over that asshole's skull was the first thing that's felt genuinely mine since I got this body."

When he said I deserved to exist, that I should never apologize for it, something in my chest tightened. Not in a bad way... no... more like... recognition. Like hearing something I'd needed to hear but hadn't known I was waiting for.

I looked at him directly, that fierce grin softening just slightly into something more genuine.

"You're a weird fucking guy, Kureji. Most people would've run the other direction or tried to stop me. But you?" I gestured with the broken guitar. "You grabbed me and ran with me. That's... actually pretty fucking cool, my guy."

I leaned against the opposite wall, hands pressed into my pockets as well, still catching my breath from the run and the rush.

"And yeah, I feel way better. Like I finally did something that was completely, unapologetically me. No Shin's influence, no wondering what the 'appropriate' response would be, no holding back because of some position or reputation to maintain."

I looked down at the ruined guitar again, then back up at him.

"So about that guitar you mentioned... getting me my own." My grin turned wicked. "Think we should get two? One to actually learn on, and one for emergencies?"

I pushed off the wall, still riding the high of what I'd just done.

"But seriously, Kureji. Thanks. For not trying to fix me or tell me I need to calm down or be more like Shin. For just... fucking letting me figure this shit out in my own fucked up way."

I offered him the broken guitar.

"Sorry about your guitar though. I'll get you a new one. After I get mine. Which, based on tonight's lesson, should probably be reinforced steel instead of wood."

 

[Kureji]

He rubbed the back of his neck as she had said that he was weird for having her back. "Well I guess I am a cool weird guy. My body moved on its own. I felt... Like I was pulled to you." He realized what he had just said, or rather the wording. But it was too late to back out on that now. He would look up at the sky and took a deep breath. He wondered if he has opened up too much. He's used to getting turned down, that's part of life. But he decided to brush it off and continue on with the conversation.

"You don't need to be fixed. You're perfect the way you are to me." Crap crap crap! Abort abort! In his mind, he is screaming at himself, thinking that he is trying too hard and might be coming off as a creep. Even as he internally facepalmed himself, he wore a relaxed expression as he had said those words.

Looking down at the broken guitar, he was actually surprised at how she managed to destroy it. "Yeah, two steel guitars would be good for you. As for me..." He pointed at his now broken guitar, more so the finer details of it. Kohana would see that there were actually components in the guitar that closely resembled that of a puppet weapon. She would also see augments attached to the internals of the guitar to include that of something that is known to be used by those who harness the powers of the Cadency Core ability. "It is a tad bit harder to replace that. But don't worry about it. Not the first time it got destroyed. Won't be the last time." He would take the guitar from her and seal it inside a scroll to be able to hold it better without losing anymore parts.

He would smile at her, "I gotta admit. I never thought I'd have fun like this with anyone from the Village. Looks like you proved me wrong." He was hoping that he wasn't creeping her out earlier with his wordings. Usually he would shoot his shot, barely trying, just to be turned down. But now he is actually trying. Is he really crushing hard for her? Is this what it means?