Gunpoint Kiss- The Roleplay Before the Writing

Setsuko had barely begun to bow, and Kazuo had already turned to continue. A little while later, though, and he paused rather belatedly after noticing his companion's footsteps had stopped. He glanced at her only fleetingly. Seeing she was staring off somewhere, he initially grew concerned she had spotted something, and peered in the direction she was staring. But there really didn't seem to be anything.

So while his companion zoned out, he checked on the map. If they were near the shore and he was pretty sure they were heading west, they must have been around I6 or maybe I5… with a danger zone straight ahead. His plan was to sweep through the middle of the island and then the north end, so it was time to change course.

Stepping closer to Setsuko, he reached out as if to shove her back into focus, but paused, eyeing her. The girl's breath was shivering. His brows knit, but he gave her a light push on the shoulder anyways, and turned away to change direction and head for the middle of the island.

She knew that he was near, since the familiar feeling of his presence seeped into her back and around her stomach. But her eyes remained fixed on the waters, and she could not help but feel that the darkened azure was trying to tell her something.

Her voice almost became a shrill scream when she felt his push on her shoulder. It was reduced to a sharp inhale, and she tore her eyes away from the coast to look at Kazuo. Setsuko felt an instantaneous calm as her eyes drifted over his face; it was unexpected, especially with his knitted brows and default pout.

She breathed in and sighed, somewhat grateful that her attention was away from the ocean. Her footsteps were quick, as she was soon walking beside him again. She held the medical kits closer than normal, as if in an embrace. However, the dream was still burning in her mind like a wildfire.

“What are-” Stop.

Setsuko felt like her question was going to be hailed with indifference. “What are your dreams like?” Her voice sounded dead.

He slowed, almost pausing again when he did not hear her footsteps resume immediately. But then they did, so he kept walking without glancing back this time. His dark eyes only flickered to her when she began to speak. He still did not look at her when she did get her question out, nor did he stop.

Instead, his gaze looked thoughtful for a few minutes as he walked. Finally, Kazuo paused, turning to peer down at his bandaged arm; but since the bandages were new and the wound was healing, no more blood had seeped through them. He looked faintly troubled, gazing across the ground then as if looking for his answer there. His shoes were spattered with blood but probably weren't very visible in the dark of the woods, even as the sky grew lighter with the approach of sunrise.

He studied his frame a moment more before his eyes lifted to Setsuko. His thumb, index, and middle fingers extended while the two remaining closed into the palm on one hand, and he lifted the gun-shaped gesture to his companion's forehead. A short, upward jerk of his hand signaled the firing of the 'gun'. Though his eyes were dark, the beginnings of a smile flitted through his lips - vanishing as fleetingly as it had appeared when Kazuo dropped his hand and turned to keep walking. On the occasion he had them, his dreams were more often about blood or post-massacre destruction than killing... but he had answered Setsuko's question at any rate.

Soon after, he stopped again for the 6:00AM report. It was strange to think it had only been 24 hours since his first killing of human beings... He smiled faintly at the memory, retrieving his map to prepare to mark the danger zones against a tree as deaths were read off.

Two girls.
Two girls. All night.
So everyone he had shot at was still alive, unless one of those girls happened to be the screamer in the clinic who had perhaps died later of her wounds. But he had his doubts he had wounded her at all.

His grip on the marker turned into a stranglehold, a sour look seeping into his features as he began scribbling down the danger zones.

It took a moment before Kazuo stopped, and Setsuko eventually turned to face him.

Her eyes widened and her body stirred when he raised his pointing fingers to her forehead, they curled to shape a gun. However, she remained still when he mimicked shooting a gun. Her eyes lingered on his mouth as she soaked in his smile and nodded once.

Understood.

She should have known that he dreamt about blood, anyway. How typical.

As their trek continued, Setsuko noticed that the sky was growing red under the influence of the sun. With the molten star, also came the sudden, but familiar strikes of an orchestra that drowned the song of the morning birds. She listened carefully and held her forehead, her fingers entwined with the dew on her forehead and dark, messy bangs.

It had been a full day since she found Kazuo in the foliage near her house.
Such a short span of time...

She tried to ignore the death report, but could not. Two girls were dead. Her pity was short-lived, though, as she peered at the map over Kazuo’s shoulder as the danger zones were called out. Uneasiness welled within her stomach when she noticed how tight his grip was on the marker. She sighed and blinked rapidly as if she was tired, but remained still and watched him mark the paper.

The announcements ended, and everything was eerily quiet. Setsuko stretched and tucked the medical kits under her arm, biting her lip in annoyance when she realized that she forgot to button her collar all the way. The distraction of unbuttoned buttons and loose threads only entertained her for so long.

“I’m sure there’s a time limit to the Program, isn’t there?” Her voice was low, yet the inflection made it clear that she was somewhat fearful.

He was quick to stash his marker and map away once the report was over, stuffing them back into his bag rather angrily. He rested his forehead against the tree he had pinned his map to before, raising his arm over his head to help lean against the trunk. A stressed posture, to say the least.

His gaze stuck to the bark of the tree at Setsuko's question. He became suddenly conscious of the collar at his throat. It was uncomfortable constantly, but sometimes he managed to forget about it if he put his mind to something else.

He hated it nonetheless.

He hated feeling that someone else had his life at their fingertips. This was a game he had volunteered for, yet the collar made him no less of a rat stuck in a maze than the other participants. And if he hadn't beaten every other rat in the maze in two days, one way or another he would be dead.

Kazuo slowly lifted away from the tree, kneading his forehead for a moment before letting his hand drop. He glanced at Setsuko only fleetingly before turning to keep walking without offering an answer.

Her answer was a quick glance from his beautiful, cold eyes but no words. There was only the sound of hidden birds in the trees. Setsuko narrowed her eyes. Even without an answer, it was so obvious that there was a limit.

As they walked, she allowed her hand to wander over the handle of the wakizashi, even to trace the circular handles of the obsolete shears. All of her movements were idle and childish fidgeting. A reaction from her companion’s stress.

She did not like seeing him stressed and she felt like she needed to provide comfort. Setsuko licked her lips and carefully placed her hand on his shoulder. Her grip was nonexistent, yet she could feel the delicate, pointed bone through his blazer. The girl started to lower her hand towards his, and hoped that such a simple gesture could help alleviate his tension.

The feel of a hand at his shoulder made him jump a little, and he glanced down at it reflexively, brows knitting. His impulse was to pull away - but that impulse was unusually belated, so by the time he began to do so Setsuko had already reached his hand. Hers was warm despite the brisk morning air. The contact felt strange... but not unpleasant. There was an unfamiliar stirring in his chest that did verge on unpleasant, however; a closed, tight feeling something like an ache. But his hand felt warmer.

His fingers shifted, exploring the company they found themselves with. His thumb stroked carefully, tentatively over foreign skin.

Though he kept walking all the while, only slowing somewhat to study their linked hands, his gaze shifted ahead after a few minutes, and he continued on without breaking the contact. Though his expression gave no sign he enjoyed it, his features appeared only faintly troubled if not indifferent. If Kazuo liked holding hands, or if it soothed him in any way, it didn't look like he was going to acknowledge or admit it in the least.

Setsuko’s cheeks billowed with a familiar shade of red when she felt his skin within her palm and fingers. She crooked her thumb to feel the almost translucent skin. It was soft and thin, so much so that the girl thought that it had been pulled on, over muscle, bone and vein.

Their linked hands alleviated some of the chill of the early morning. It felt strange, to be walking through the trees hand-in-hand and spattered with blood. Her thumb found a consistent rhythm to stroke his skin.

She established a pattern of looking at his face and then at the earth. The clumsy gait still caused her to fumble over tree roots and uneven ground; in response, her grip on his hand tightened slightly. Her eyes wandered down from his face, to his jaw, and then at the collar coiled around his neck. Her companion seemed to be uncomfortable wearing it, but did not take it off yet. Setsuko shifted her body so that she could look at the thicker, wider expanse of the metal in the front.

Suddenly, she inhaled and hissed, her hand got tight around his and she stopped walking.
“It’s bugged.” Her voice was almost inaudible.

Her statement was not confident, but the smaller rectangle above the black square in the center was too suspicious.

Their trysts had been intruded upon.

His fingers froze when hers began to move, as if anxious of being stung or bitten. His hand continued to give small flinches periodically in response to the other's fluctuating touch and grip - it was obvious he was unaccustomed to such contact, and it continued to keep his muscles on edge. He was pulled to a sudden stop when Setsuko stopped; Kazuo turned to scowl faintly at her, leering down at their linked hands as if they were handcuffed together.

He stared at her a moment more, dark eyes sour while he tried to piece together what she was saying. But when he did, his expression gave a subtle shift, and his gaze dropped. He felt his cheeks get hot. It was an unfamiliar sensation; he rubbed the back of his free hand against his face as if trying to wipe the feeling away, only vaguely aware of the bit of extra color surfacing in the already warm hue of his skin. The boy shook his head dismissively before turning away to keep walking, looking disconcerted but offering nothing more on the subject.

She stared as if her gaze saw through him, although her sight became focused when he looked away. His cheeks became warm with color. With the disgusting realization momentarily forgotten, she tilted her head to the side and a small smile tugged at the edges of her lips.

Cute.

A disappointed expression spread across her features when he turned away. But she realized that their hands were still linked when she was pulled along with him. She hung her head down as the feelings of disgust rushed in. Setsuko had voiced her discovery without thinking, and now her companion was probably even more hesitant to admit anything. The girl made a low, distressed sound and pressed her arm against his and walked closely. She was near enough that his warmth dispelled her panic, yet far enough to not trip him.

The beginnings of a scowl tugged at his features; he seemed irked at Setsuko's close quarters, but didn't pull away, either.

They walked without incident as the sun steadily climbed through the sky. He checked the map from time to time to pay mind to where they were and what direction they were going in. Later into the morning, he stopped some ways into the middle of the island. It must have been four or five sectors, completely uninterrupted. There was something like 14 other participants left. Where the fuck was everybody?

He finally pulled away from his companion and leaned back against a tree, sighing for a moment before giving in and dropping to sit. He took a water bottle out of his bag for a few short drinks. It would still be a little while before the noon report... He would probably get up to walk some more before then, but for now he felt like a break - especially after walking for so long without finding shit.

Setsuko was surprised that there was less conflict than the previous day. She thought for sure that some of the teenagers would have snapped by now, but maybe they were in hiding. The island air was becoming warmer as the sun rose, but she did not break the connection of their interlocked fingers. They had wandered without being interrupted, even though the expanse of the journey was not that large.

She looked over at Kazuo when he pulled away and felt the colder air lap against her skin. Her eyes followed his movements as he leaned against a tree and slid down onto the ground. She did not join him, but rather stood off, although she kept him in view. With the medical kits resting on the grass, her arm was free, but sore. Her fingers kneaded the flesh. The initial feeling of disgust of being intruded on had spread onto her skin like a disease.
She felt unclean, filthy. Setsuko needed to find water to wash it away. She ran her hand through her dark hair and sighed. To bathe right now would be a terrible idea. Even though there were some streams nearby, they were scummy. It was also the perfect place to be targeted.

Slowly, the soreness of her legs defeated her, and she inched towards her companion before sitting down. The dirt and moss were soft, and the grass tickled her legs; but the familiar sensations provided little comfort. With her knees raised, she tucked her arm under her legs to prevent her skirt from falling. An absent-minded finger drew contours on the ground, totally uncaring of the dirt that was getting trapped under her nails. Almost oblivious to...time.

Time limit.

Her head shot up, and she looked at Kazuo. Setsuko’s bored expression was slowly fading into the familiarity of sadness and utter pain.

“What if you win and you have to go?” Her voice was breaking. “Will I ever see you again?”

He had half a mind to have some of the bread, but decided to wait until a break at noon. After putting his water away, Kazuo rested his head back against the trunk of the tree. He didn't look at Setsuko when she sat down beside him, though he spared a glance to her doodling in the earth perhaps only for something to look at.

He jumped at the sudden movement of her head, and averted his gaze at the eye contact that followed. He glanced only briefly over again at her question before his eyes dropped to the ground. His brow furrowed and his lips pouted a little, as if he may have been thinking hard.

Kazuo's impulse thought was no. No, he would never see her again, and he would be all the better for it. She wouldn't be trailing after him his whole life, he wouldn't have to endure her emotional fits, she wouldn't be pestering him with questions and random bouts of anger - or the strange tone of panic she was taking now. He leered at her rather warily for a moment. No more inexplicably comforting gestures like trying to touch his shoulder or hold his hand.

No more physical intimacy he didn't like to think about, and no more pestering him to think about it.... which already drove him to think about it some more.

If he left and never saw her again, would he forget about it? Would things be the same, as they had always been? He liked the idea... yet his insides were rung together like a wet rag at it. His face even gave a notable flinch at the feeling. His chest felt claustrophobic and his stomach churned all of a sudden; anxiety crossed his features, and he wrapped his arms around his stomach consciously. He liked the idea but it seemed something in him didn't. And when he thought back to the sensations exchanged in that intimacy, the warm hunger of desire simmered in him, and he didn't feel like he wanted to go the rest of his life without it anymore.

Which made him all the more anxious. His face tensed at the conflicted blend of feelings seething in his heart and gut. He curled somewhat, taking a hard breath before shaking his head insistently. No - it would be better to forget this, and not have such feelings again. Besides, as far as he knew, the Program didn't award money to its victors, and he didn't have the money to make the trip out here to see her.

Kazuo scowled faintly, through the nervousness already wrought in his face. Not that there was any reason he would visit her.

She watched him tentatively as she waited for him to answer. Her drawing on the ground had ceased but her hand remained and pressed on the moss. Distress trickled into her stomach and became ice within her organs. Setsuko was lucky to be sitting down, her leg muscles had taken on the consistency of gelatin. Her heart leaped when Kazuo turned towards her, and its rhythm steadily increased, even when he looked away. Apprehension continued to cloud her eyes, and she could feel her heartbeat within her throat.

Her companion’s sharp exhale made her hold her own and tense; he followed by shaking his head. The girl’s lip twitched and she nodded once before her head tilted down. Her large teeth clutched her lower lip to stifle a cry and her eyes crinkled shut. Her head lowered until the forehead touched her rough knees.

Everything hurt, now.

She’d never see Kazuo again, and that’s if this fucking Program went in his favor and he emerged victorious. Setsuko’s free hand clutched at the dirt before it flew to hold her hair. Tears threatened to sting her eyes, but she did not relent. However a few distressed mewls escaped her clenched jaws, but with more pushing, she was able to stop them.

Did you really think that he could care about you?

She froze. Her entire body was now perfectly still, save for the occasional, but short, rise and fall of her chest and stomach for air. Her hidden face was contorted in sorrow, her lips quivered beneath her teeth. Eventually, her other arm left to wrap around the top of her knees. The skirt of her dress fell, but she leaned against the tree and pushed her legs back as if to shield herself.

It was strange that a boy that she only knew for a day was able to tear this much emotion out from her psyche and splay out into the open. With a few minutes since his answer gone, she only felt her anguish build up rather than relax. It was heavy, and she did not how much more she could take before it would break her.

Suddenly, but slowly, the girl inched away from him and leaned against a neighboring tree. Her head had lifted, but she had shifted so that her back was towards him.

Though he struggled to keep his gaze averted, he glanced at his companion fleetingly as if his face was being pulled by a magnet, more or less watching as her reaction progressed. Her face quivered before she hid it away... Then he could see her back shuddering with stifled breath, soon followed by short, muffled whimpers.

Kazuo's brows knit. He began to scowl, but his face turned somewhat pained. His chest ached - hard, like his heart was being squeezed into a tiny box and pressed against on all sides. He hugged himself tighter.

Stop. She had to stop. She was doing this to him.

His breathing picked up and grew rougher when she scooted off to sit elsewhere; dark eyes leered after her bitterly. He looked away, anchoring his glare to the ground while the torment inside him continued to simmer. "... Fuck...." He hissed, barely audibly, under his breath. His frame began shivering.

The bark was hard and almost sharp against her skin, but the sensation did not stop her from leaning into the wood. Her eyes opened, she squinted immediately when the sun’s rays left bright spots in her vision. Her head turned sideways and she allowed a few locks of hair to obscure the morning light. The pain was still evident in her face, although her breathing had become quiet.

However, there was another set of breathing that echoed hers. The sounds seemed to pull her by the shoulder, since she slowly rolled around and pressed her other hip into the tree trunk.

Setsuko’s eyes widened when his voice fell on her ears, and the former pain within them started to diminish. It gave way to concern and worry, which became more apparent when Kazuo started to shiver. She hesitantly shifted to sit on her knees and did not give a thought at the sharp wood that was scraping her skin. Her back bent over and her hands pressed into the dirt so that she could crawl over to him, but there was hesitation.
The girl was not sure if her touch would comfort him anymore.

But she had to try.

She only gave a slight wince at a newer scrape from the wood as she crawled towards him, and once she was close enough, she resumed kneeling. Her frame hovered next to him, unmoving for a few seconds before one of her arms reluctantly snaked around the back of his neck, the other following in the front. Once her fingers interlocked around his shoulder, Setsuko pulled him closer to her. She buried her nose in his hair to kiss his head, and then allowed him to rest under her jaw.

Kazuo cast her a skittish glance when she moved, but was quick to pull his eyes back to the ground - where they stubbornly remained right up until an arm brushed past his shoulder. She was warm at his nape as her arms coiled around him, though the shift in his collar made him tense up, hesitating for a moment before being allowing himself to be pulled into the hold. Her throat and chest felt warm where his face was nestled. He felt her nose sift through his hair, and then the gentle pressure of a kiss. He still held himself tightly, making no move to return the embrace.

Regardless, his shaking gradually quieted, his breathing calmed, and his frame fell lax in her arms until it seemed as if he might collapse against her. But despite relaxing, the boy's face remained troubled and bitter. His insides still churned unpleasantly, though not enough to make him feel like he was going to implode or throw up like before. He didn't like that her crying had made him feel like this, nor that her touch had soothed it. His dark eyes glowered into the ground.

When he appeared to have fully calmed, Kazuo pulled away rather suddenly, adjusting the straps of his bag and Uzi before climbing to his feet. He tottered a bit at first like his leg might have been asleep, but soon set off at his usual stride to continue; there was still enough time before noon announcements to cover more distance.

There was some relief to be had when her companion stopped his shivering, although her brow furrowed as she allowed her cheek to rest on his head. It felt wonderful to hold him like this, certainly, but some pangs of apprehension tore through each neuron in her system and then disappeared.

Setsuko remained and absorbed his warmth, but her mind was slowly drifting elsewhere. Did he react this way because of her? The furrow upon her brow became deeper with thought. Definitely. This answer only created question on top of question, though. She pursed her lips as the growing complications annoyed her. But she would have to wait. Her pain, while not totally faded, was slowly draining away. Although the prospect of losing him was still fresh in her mind...it could change. There was still some hope. For now, the moments between them would have to be savored and-

The support that she was leaning on suddenly disappeared, and she fell over. It was a very short fall and she was able to sit up immediately. Kazuo was already on his feet and walking away. Setsuko hurriedly gathered the medical kits and clambered to her feet before she caught up to him. She looked over at him and then turned away.

“If you need to stop and hide somewhere, just say so.”

He leered back over his shoulder at Setsuko, uncertain of what exactly she meant but not really caring. If Kazuo 'needed' anything, he would just do it or take it without saying shit, as always.

They continued through the middle of the island, weaving their way through danger zones as necessary with periodic looks at the map. Time drifted by again without incident. There were occasional pauses to listen, but nothing was heard to hold Kazuo's attention nor alter his course. By the noon report, he came to a stop toward the north end of D3.

Two boys. It didn't seem likely either of them were the ones Kazuo had shot at, or else it would have taken them a long time to die from their wounds...

Once finished marking the new danger zones, he spat at the ground vehemently, a scowl crossing his features. He gazed ahead, and then took a minute to eye the road that was in sight through the trees. He seemed hungry to keep moving, but instead sat down after a long, careful look around as always, taking what was left of the bread out of his bag.

She was half-relieved that no conflict arose in their journey, yet her nerves were on the edge. Her eyes were constantly shifting back and forth for movement, and she even held her breath at times so that her hearing would be clear. The brush and foliage of the island...her home...was now Hell.

Setsuko noticed that her hand had settled on the wakizashi handle, but only when her companion stopped. She breathed in and slowly lowered herself to her knees. The blade, along with its sheath, was pulled up from its faux-ribbon belt and it dug into the ground with her weight. Her forehead rested upon her entwined hands. The first thing she noticed was that the ribbon had broken, perhaps from the burden of the sword on the sheer threads.
The corners of her lips pushed into her mouth in annoyance. She would have to carry the damn thing, now, and that would take away the use of her only free hand. Unless she left the medical kits behind...no, that was out of the question. Her head lifted so that her chin dug into the tops of her hands, and her gaze found Kazuo.

She raised an eyebrow when he spat on the ground, but it lowered as he scouted the road and sat down. She eyed the bread with disinterest. Her hunger had been sated.

Setsuko put more weight on her knees and less tension on the wakizashi as she shifted to sit on her thigh. The girl sighed once more, she had let her attention wander and she missed the noon report.

Shoot.

With the complacent stillness in the air came some ease for the girl’s addled brain. She blinked once before she spoke.

“I’m...glad that I found you.” Setsuko admitted. “I wouldn’t have survived this long. Nor would I have...” Her voice trailed off into silence.

Kazuo took only a few bites of the bread before putting it away again. His gaze tentatively lifted to glower at Setsuko, as if anticipating anything she might say would be unpleasant. He gave a dramatic roll of his eyes, then dropping his head to study the earth with knit brows. Whatever. She could have stuck it out in a danger zone and been fine the whole game; more than anything, following him around was what was putting her life at constant risk. Boy number six was on the hunt for trouble - and was trouble himself. Walking, breathing, and armed trouble.

He rested his head back against a tree, his gaze drifting around lazily but avoiding his companion. He felt tired. He wanted to keep moving... He had to find the other participants. Kills were dwindling. But his eyes were feeling heavy, and it would be no good to wander around without being alert.

Setsuko gave him a look when he rolled his eyes. She opened her mouth and apart of her voice lashed out to whip him into pieces, but the sound stopped when the Uzi came into view.

She knew that she said stupid things, though. What if talking to him merely discouraged him? She closed her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head.

Be patient.

She was tired, but did not need to rest. Kazuo’s tired air did not go unnoticed, however. Trees were not a comfortable thing to lean on for sleep. Her touch seemed to temporarily obliterate his volatile nature. Maybe...just maybe he’d be more receptive. She was slow in her approach, but the distance between them was closed. He was near. Setsuko sat upright and opened her arms in a welcoming gesture.

Dark eyes only drowsily shifted in Setsuko's direction at her nearing. Kazuo didn't turn his head to look, but he could tell she was inching closer, cautiously, like a zookeeper approaching an alligator that might rip into action at any moment. He watched her blankly until she sat up and gestured to hold him.

His brows furrowed as a slight scowl seeped into his features. He sat up just enough to lean over, lips puckering before slowly depositing a wad of saliva onto the ground between them. It was not an aggressive firing of spit as he had been launching in moments of frustration, but a lazy trail that took a moment to drip free of his lips.

For not talking, Kazuo certainly had colorful ways of expressing himself.

His gaze lifted to stare flatly at his companion as he withdrew to lean back against the tree again, looking prepared to start on a nap.

The girl flinched and pushed away when he spat at the ground. When the initial surprise faded, Setsuko’s eyes became lit with fury. Her first impulse was to wrestle the Uzi away from him and then bash it against the back of his head. But, there was no way in Hell that she could do that. She would be a bloody heap and her brains would be scattered with cinnabar over green grass.

Even with the promise of death, her hands still itched for the gun, despite the resting blade nearby. Her mouth became a thin line as fingernails dug into her palm. They left irritated, crescent moon shaped marks on the skin. She breathed in and shuddered. The anger was getting harder to contain, but she did not dare use force. Even though her arms were thin and weak, it would be the display of insolence that would lead to her fall. It was getting harder to contain, but at least the urge to strike steadily dwindled away. The furies concentrated towards her diaphragm, and ensnared her tongue.

“Why the Hell did you do that?” Her eyes burned like fire. “This is because I’m hounding you all the time, isn’t it? It’s not my problem that you’re a damned chickenshit who has so much trouble admitting things that are right in front of him!”

Enough time passed that Kazuo shut his eyes for some rest... but just another minute or so later, and his companion's outburst jolted him awake. He sat up, wakefulness and confusion billowing into his eyes not without a subtle, irritated leer.

A leer that built into a venomous glowering as Setsuko went on. His hand tensed on the submachine gun it rested on, but instead he lunged forward to shove Setsuko hard at the shoulders in the hopes of knocking her over.

His frame lurched at first, as if he was moving to get up, but he stopped before even reaching a crouch. He glared at his companion bitterly... though there was a wary, almost hurt undertone to the hatred in his pitch dark eyes that suggested she had approached a topic he was less than comfortable with. It was a menacing look nonetheless; one that near guaranteed she would be shunned, hit, or perhaps killed if she pushed the matter.