Graverobber141
[Insert Clever Line Here]
It was so very obvious.
The guard had already pointed out the fact that they were being watched, and even though an animalistic instinct scratched underneath his skin, a subconscious urge to take advantage of the situation, that turned back--take a hostage, demand to see the the Uchiha, end it once and for all--he could see through the trick easily. They wouldn't send someone as incompetent like this into the lion's den. No, it was as if they were playing with him, and just that thought fueled some deep, hidden, yet deeply ingrained fire within himself, was like experiencing the sound of long fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.
Patience.
He remained silent as he stood from the bed, hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall, stumbling toward the toilet. The light was still entirely too bright, and he felt a dull throb within his skull, one that made him grit his teeth. After relieving himself, he walked closer to the poor man stationed within here, who he doubted was even this clueless, and reached to take the water bottle, before retreating a few steps back.
"No," he repeated the word, opened the bottle, and threw back his head as he drank the liquid deeply; it felt like jumping into a cool lake on a hot summer day, soothing the pain that had burned down his throat. "I'm not a Kokoro." His grey eyes travelled around the room, and fixating on the spot where he judged the two way mirror to be--I know you're watching--he asserted, "My name is Satoru."
The guard had already pointed out the fact that they were being watched, and even though an animalistic instinct scratched underneath his skin, a subconscious urge to take advantage of the situation, that turned back--take a hostage, demand to see the the Uchiha, end it once and for all--he could see through the trick easily. They wouldn't send someone as incompetent like this into the lion's den. No, it was as if they were playing with him, and just that thought fueled some deep, hidden, yet deeply ingrained fire within himself, was like experiencing the sound of long fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.
Patience.
He remained silent as he stood from the bed, hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall, stumbling toward the toilet. The light was still entirely too bright, and he felt a dull throb within his skull, one that made him grit his teeth. After relieving himself, he walked closer to the poor man stationed within here, who he doubted was even this clueless, and reached to take the water bottle, before retreating a few steps back.
"No," he repeated the word, opened the bottle, and threw back his head as he drank the liquid deeply; it felt like jumping into a cool lake on a hot summer day, soothing the pain that had burned down his throat. "I'm not a Kokoro." His grey eyes travelled around the room, and fixating on the spot where he judged the two way mirror to be--I know you're watching--he asserted, "My name is Satoru."