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Contrary to his glum disposition, Ginjo bursts into a fit of laugher at the irony in Shūkurō’s words. “I wish I could say the same for Kūkaku. Woman, at random, issues me a thousand commands and insults, in a minute. How the mighty has fallen.” - >
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KŪGO GINJŌ 『 叛逆 』
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Eyes remain glued to text adorned pages as he offered a light chuckle in response. ❝You and I both know I am incapable of making you do anything you don’t want to do. I simply saw your glass was empty, so I brought you a new one.❞
Turns a page. ❝Besides, you think to much. Live and let die.❞
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月島 秀九郎
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Giriko must’ve forgotten to light the pyre, the den was usually cold, but ironically fitting for a man entrenched in thought and deafened by impregnable silence — his glass was empty. That was until, Shūkurō offered a brimming substitute.
“You’re enabling me, otouto.”
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KŪGO GINJŌ 『 叛逆 』
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The remarkably tall and lanky fullbringer approached his partner in crime, finding a seat next to him, nose still in his book. Whilst a book resided in one hand, a fresh glass of whiskey took residence in the other. He slid the fresh cup in front of Ginjo, not speaking a word.
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月島 秀九郎
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Much rests heavy on his shoulders in these sacrosanct times of peace. Even in peace, life has demonstrated that closure does not mean the end to a dilemma within oneself. Seated in the den inside the Shibā family manor - he nurses a glass of whiskey, consumed by his thoughts.
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