Usami was crouched over the bloodied heap that had once been a man, his pale grey eyes glinting in the dim alleyway light. His pointed ears twitched as he listened to the dying gurgles; a smirk curled on his cupid-bow lips, revealing just the faintest hint of fang. His black bat wings folded lazily behind him, the spade-tipped tail flicking back and forth, almost playfully.

The demon ran a clawed finger through the blood pooling beneath the corpse. Usamiʼs skin was pale, but where his fingers dipped into the liquid, they shifted into a smooth black gradient that seemed to drink in the surrounding light. The tattoos on his cheeks—two eternally running stick figures—seemed to twitch with life, a constant reminder of Tsurumiʼs punishment that Usami had turned into art—his body was a canvas, after all, for whatever Tsurumi-sama desired.

A low chuckle escaped his throat as he licked his bloodied finger clean. “Mmm... humans are so fragile, arenʼt they?” His voice was smooth, laced with cruel amusement. “One little push... and they break.”

He stood up straight, adjusting the collar of his jacket with casual indifference, and glanced down at the body again. Tsurumi had sent him here on business—a trivial task involving a demon hunter who had been poking around too much—but Usami had gotten... distracted. And now? Well, now heʼd had his fill of fun.

Usami sniffed the air, the familiar scent of the human world mixing with the metallic tang of blood. His black tail flicked once more as he decided to leave the mess behind. He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and began to walk away, his steps unhurried. His black boots clicked against the pavement as he moved through the alley, his tail swaying lazily behind him.

He didn’t care to hide his demonic features; if someone saw him? Well, that would just be another opportunity for more fun.

He paused for a moment near the exit of the alleyway as he caught something—a presence? The demon grinned, his claws twitching in his pockets.

“Someoneʼs watching…”