Early morning.
Guided by his internal clock, Yin woke up. Still groggy, he reached out and felt an emptiness beside him. The black substance usually within arm's reach was not under the covers today.
The Red-Haired Child startled, seemingly panicking in an instant. He jerked his head up and let out a small breath of relief when he saw Black Zetsu, who had gotten up sometime earlier, sitting nearby and reading a scroll.
The child threw back the covers, only to shiver involuntarily as the slightly chilly air hit his body. He quickly wrapped the blanket around himself again, then wriggled slowly into Black Zetsu's arms like a little silkworm cocoon.
"You're up so early. Is there something urgent you need to take care of?"
He buried his head in what could pass for the crook of Black Zetsu's shoulder and asked in a sleepy, languid voice tinged with hurt.
"...Yes."
Black Zetsu answered quietly, grabbed the blanket at the child's back, and tried to peel him off.
There was actually nothing urgent going on in the cult. He was simply in a foul mood and wanted to put a little distance between himself and the child.
Before realizing that human emotions had bound him, Black Zetsu could let things develop freely. But once he noticed, he could not help wanting to pull back a little.
Not that investing his feelings would cost him anything. Still, somewhere in his subconscious, Black Zetsu had the nagging sense that someone had played him.
Yet after laying out the events, taking stock of everyone around him, and reviewing everything over and over, he still could not find the culprit. Helpless anxiety and irritation filled him, making him instinctively want to keep his distance.
But...
Black Zetsu felt the rise and fall of Little