"Tell me of this fate, then, since you're so eager for a talk." How...funny it is, to mention such a thing, when Oriko and her had been dedicated to change the supposed inevitable.

Her lip curls, closer to a sneer than an expression with actual humour in it. The choice of phrase was an inappropriate one, and she prepares herself to make him understand just how much. She can almost picture the sight of Haruto's body, broken, shredded, blood slowly washed off and seeping into the rain. The owner of his face is good as dead, what personal attachment there once was carries no meaning now.

Wouldn't do to rush into making that image a reality, though. Unnecessary urgency had cost her, before; she won't allow herself to commit the same mistake twice.