Amano feels even more eyes on him as Illiendi comes over and begins cleaning him off. He flashes back to being a child when his mother catered to him as the “baby” and he wonders vaguely if this looks any different. [i]'I mean, he is doing what my mother used to, but is it different now? If so, how? Is it because of my age, or because of the societal belief that once you are important enough you [b]should[/b] be catered to? . . . . .That is a distinct possibility. I've never seen anyone cleaned like this, but then again, I watch the ground most of the time. I've never bothered to look around and see how “other nobles” are being treated in public. . .I've never really cared. . . .Dies that mean that I only care now because I now have the potential to become such?'[/i] With a soft sigh he sets aside his mental debate for later and instead focuses on the man kneeling before him.

[i]'No, not a man, a demon. A demon who will one day be gone, taking my soul or whatever with him back to hell, who doesn't understand love, a who despite all of his effort to help me does not actually care what he's doing as long as he gets what he wants in the end'[/i] His lids drop slightly as he examines Illiendi closely. [i]'In a way he's no different from the men who cater to my father, licking his boots to gain his favor, except. . . .Except he's not licking my boots. He seems to want me to just use him, but at the same time using him just feels wrong. The pride, the power, it's all there, and despite him being my so called manservant, it's all I can do to just pretend that I have any power over him'[/i]

Illiendi uses [i]that word[/i] again and the pleasant shiver runs through his body. It seems almost familiar now. Their eyes meet for an instant and Amano feels frozen until that unnaturally warm hand comes up and begins wiping away the filth from his face. His eyes almost close, but not quite. Instead of looking at the demon's face however, his gaze shifts over to his hand. [i]'This hand. . . .How many people has it killed? How much blood has soaked into it, staining it even thought the blood itself is gone. How much death has it delivered to this world. . . .Will this hand take my life in the end?'[/i] He shivers again, this time for not quite so pleasant a reason.

Once more he finds himself setting aside his thoughts, his musing for another day, in favor of focusing on this demon in human skin. This time however he focuses on the man's word, listening with a mind so twisted and confused that he's actually quite surprised when he understands what Illiendi is saying. He chuckles at the idea of “just calling the whole thing off”, wondering vaguely what it would be like to be someone who would even consider doing so. Amano may not be the boldest man around, but when he sets his mind to something, not even his like long fear of his father's wrath would be able to force him off a path once set upon. [i]'I fear for my life. My life the the most precious thing I have, and if doing this will make this life of mine better. . . .'[/i]

Looking up at the demon Amano smiles, doing his best to ignore all the little things that are making him want to flee the building. Holding himself up straight, just like Illiendi taught him he smiles warmly. Something about him not caring either way, or at least saying he does not, makes the youth happy for some reason. It doesn't really make sense as that once more gives him the appearance of one of those greasy weasels that hang out around his father, however somehow Illiendi manages to act like one, without appearing like one. [i]'Illiendi is different. He is special'[/i] He nods slightly at that thought and sighs. “Forgive me. Old habits die hard. I. . . .Will not give up. Not ever.” His voice is sure, his eyes clear as he looks at the demon pretending to be man. “We have made this plan, and I will follow through.”