The faint smile is a welcomed sight for the upset young man. He smiles back, the warm touch of Illiendi's fingers comforting. [i]'Yes. I will have so much. I will live my life, and I will have power and prestige. . .Real power. Not the kind my father has. The kind that could collapse with one wrong move, or dependent on other people. It will be me. [b]I[/b] will be the one to stand in the eyes of the people as a man worth showing respect'[/i] Puffing up inside from the demon's words Amano's smile widens and he nods, stretching his now aching legs out in front of him. Rubbing them softly he looks around the room, sending one last glare towards the window before moving on to more important matters.

He lets his mind wander over the idea of eternal torment for his father as he slips off the bed and takes to his feet. Stretching he spares a moment to think about his own eternity before shrugging it off and turning his mind to the task at hand. [i]'Illiendi will be handling my afterlife. Not mine to think about'[/i] Wandering over to hes desk he begins going over all of the things he wrote down before being distracted, letting the demon make the changes that need to be made and listening to his advice about the whole affair. He continues going over and over the little bits in his head, like standing up straight and seeming confident, doing his best to maintain these things as a kind of practice for the time he will need them.

Eventually, they get through all the things they can do for the day and Amano takes to his bed once more, staring at the ceiling. It's only half an hour before dinner and he wonders what else he could be doing. After a few seconds a thought occurs to him and he slides off the bed, heading to his closet. Careful this time to not drop anything on his head, he pulls out his drawing supplies and brings them carefully over to his desk. Turning to the demon with a faint flush he asks, “Would it be completely frivolous of me to bring these with? I really do enjoy working on my simple bits of art, but, well. . .” He casts around for the right way to say what's on his mind. “I do not really want to give up drawing, but if you think it will serve no purpose, I think now would be the time to let me know. I think it would be easiest to drop the practice if I simply deprive myself of access to the tools. . .” He looks at the demon with slightly wide eyes, clearly torn on the subject.