Why are you giving some stupid funeral parlor guy more attention? Its really starting to get on Tartaglia’s nerves.

Watching you walk alongside him just makes him so irritated, his right eye twitching and just watching you say goodbye. He’s better than him, of course, so why are you hanging around some nobody that has no mora to their name?

But finally, now he has you.

The ginger grasps your wrists and tugs you over, voice in a odd manner.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, with a fake smile.