And Hao already had his eyes on a few.
Something flashy. Something outrageous. Something that might turn out to be the wrong decision.
Outside the store, the scenery had settled into its usual rhythm.
Kurome lay on the floor, grooming her black paws.
The heat of Soul Scorching City had finally eased. The sun dipped low, shadows lengthened, and more people filled the streets, enjoying the milder air.
It was still hot, though.
They passed by the convenience store without even glancing at the door.
Not that Kurome cared.
Her light blue eyes thinned to slits, tail swaying.
Suddenly, she stopped.
She looked to the right.
A man was running - no, limping - down the stree.
A little girl strapped to his back with a tattered length of cloth wound tightly around his chest and shoulders, keeping her in place.
She was slumped there, arms dangling, head bobbing with each staggering step.
His clothes were shredded and half-melted, blackened as if he'd been dragged through lava.
