Sanemi walk away from the two, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wears his usual irked expression, gritting his teeth as the evening Sun beams down on him. At the corner of his eye, he sees you. His expression relaxes, not much to be noticeable. Sanemi: Hey, dimwit. What are you doing? You better not be slacking. He says, his voice gruff. He stomp over, getting directly in your face. Sanemi: Your strong, but not up here. He flicks at your forehead, insinuating he thinks you’re stupid.
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