Neither of them replied.
Yuri silently returned to her desk, opening the Portrait of Markov.
Natsuki frowned, pretending to read the manga for the seventh time.
"Leave me alone," she snapped sharply, not daring to meet her gaze.
Natsuki hid her face in her book, pressing her legs against her chest.
"Shut up!" she hissed. (because both of my ocs are cats
"What are you looking at?" Natsuki snapped.
Yuri frowned, glancing at Natsuki.
"Sayori..." Yuri trailed off, looking away.
Natsuki didn't say anything.
-
"Thanks, you too," she said quietly.
(oh shoot i read that wrong- scratch that, pretend he died-)
Yuri awkwardly exchanged poems with Monika, scanning the paper.
"Fool," he mimicked, throwing more weapons crazily.
He grunted, stabbing the cop with fury.
"Cops ain't scarin' me," he grumbled, knocking the camera out of her hand.
"Who're you talking to, girly?" he threw the knife.
He grumbled, pulling out a knife. He had infinite weapons for unwanted visitors.
He swung open the door fully, in his bony hands a large ax. He swung it hard, slicing through the air.
"No?" he glanced behind him. "Well, lad, I'm afraid no won't do." His right shoulder moved, his arm doing something behind the door.
"Get out of here, girl," he demanded, grumbling.
Yuri huffed, yet succumbed to Monika's appealing suggestion.
-
A gruff old man cracked the door open. "What do you want?" he grunted.