That drop of cold sweat hit the parchment, spreading into an ugly blotch of ink.
Black ink seeped outward along the paper's grain like ugly little worms.
Raikage A gritted his back teeth hard.
The muscles in his cheeks bulged and sank repeatedly, twitching over and over.
His arm in a cast trembled slightly. The sour stench of sweat trapped beneath the plaster nauseated even him.
Yoru said nothing.
He merely picked up that chipped teacup again and blew on the tea stems floating on top.
"Slurp."
The sound of him drinking tea was painfully loud in the deathly silent room.
"I..."
It felt as though A's throat were stuffed with dry straw, and his voice came out so hoarse it was barely audible.
He swallowed some dry saliva, his Adam's apple rolling up and down with difficulty.
"Brother A, what're you dragging your feet for?"
Ōnoki picked at his teeth beside him, casually flicking the shred of meat he dug out onto the floor.
The old man grinned so broadly that the wrinkles on his face squeezed together, making him look like a wizened walnut that had come to life.
"Brother Yoru's time is precious. That huge Buddha outside still has its hand raised. Do you really want it to slap down?"
A suddenly lifted his head, his bloodshot bull-like eyes glaring fiercely at Ōnoki.
He wanted to curse. He wanted to flip the table.
But when the corner of his eye caught sight of the blue Susanoo Great Buddha outside, vast enough to blot out the sky, what little defiance he had vanished in an instant.
He couldn't beat him.
He really fucking couldn't beat him.
Like a deflated balloon, A's towering body suddenly sagged.
He reached out with his uninjured left hand and grabbed the wolf-hair brush