“Since today, duh!”
Nayuta shrugs off her backpack, unzipping its pouch before retrieving a crumpled sheet of paper. She unfurls it and pinches both edges, displaying a bright red “100/100” score at the top right corner.
“See? See?!”
“Good doggy.”
Nayuta lowered her finger. The chain still lodged in the older woman’s head went taut, and Fumiko folded in on herself like a punctured balloon, knees hitting the floor with a dull thud.
This woman had been a persistent thorn—always hovering, always pulling-
— Eyes roll back in their lids, mind suddenly so quiet, so silent in an almost pleasant way. Is she drooling? Fumiko can't tell. Her grip on the little devil slowly eases up before she's almost slumping in place.
Eehh— .ᐣ
Fumiko’s arms barely close around her before Nayuta goes rigid. A thin, dark chain snaps out from her fingertip and threads straight through Fumiko’s skull with a soft shhk.
Nayuta doesn’t even look up. Her voice is flat and cold.
“Get off.”
Fumiko has no decision in the+
Awww ...
I'm tootally with Denji-senpai now , so you can call me mommy. Okay .ᐣ.ᐟ
— Pulling closer, giving Nayuta a hug. Arms wrapped around the little waist and picking the girl up.