[h1][center][b]Itsuki[/b][/center][/h1]

[b]"It just . . . happens, I guess."[/b] Itsuki shrugged at her question, quite unsure about that himself. He'd had never really had friends himself, to be honest, tending to keep to himself more often then not. As Rin went on about the fights, however, Itsuki found himself distracted by a familiar smell. He couldn't place it at first, but the more he focused on it, the colder he began to feel. Without conscious thought, he started walking faster, his eyes dilating as the scent kept getting stronger and stronger. He didn't even hear Rin's second question, not stopping as he burst through the doors, much to the displeasure of those working the clinic.

Itsuki made a beeline from the man from before, grabbing his shoulder and turning him away from his patient and towards the elevator. The man, of course, tried to struggle but Itsuki cut him off with as concise an update as possible, keeping enough in mind about where he was to whisper the information to him.

[sub][b]"I smell blood upstairs. Lots of it.[/b][/sub]

The implication was clear, and the man was quick to let himself be dragged into the elevator, inserting the key in order for it to go all the way up to the needed floor.He waited just long enough for Rin to get in if she was following him, then gave the man a solemn nod as he pressed the button for the 4th floor. As the doors closed and they were taken to the selected floor, all that could be heard was the rapid tapping of his foot, the panic he felt slowly, but surely, slipping though the cracks in his composure.

[i][b]It's my fault. This is all my fault. I never should've come here.[/b][/i] Taking a breath in an attempt to calm himself, Itsuki began to gnaw on one of his fingers, the force he exerted onit being enough to actually draw blood. [b][i]If anything happened to them, then that Crazy Bitch won't live to regret what she's done.[/i][/b]

The ding of the elevator arriving at it's destination shook him out of his thoughts, but before the doors even opened, he knew all he needed to know. The scent of blood was thick, and as the doors opened to reveal the bloody scene before him, it was all that was needed to whip him into a furious rage. Stepping out into the small area, his white Kakugan nearly glowing from the intensity of his glare as his Kagune burst from his back, all six of them whipping about like a nest of angry vipers. As soon as he was close enough, they'd converge on Mi's downed form, the clawed appendages sinking deep into her flesh as she was pulled upwards into the air. Within moments, she'd be wrapped up by Itsuki's Rinkaku, the jagged scales painfully tearing into any exposed skin and the open wound in her side, along with a great amount of force being  exerted on crushing her small frame. Bracing her against the wall, his eyes burning with white-hot rage,Itsuki would silently wrap his fingers around her throat, squeezing down with all the force he could muster. Between his Rinkaku and his hands, he didn't think it would take long, especially in her current condition.

[i][b]How dare you do this.[/b][/i] The thought ran through his head. [i][b]How dare you come in here and hurt my family!I'll kill you. I'll kill you, I'll tear you're body to shreds, I'll paint these halls red with your blood for what you did.[/b][/i]

As Itsuki squeezed tighter and tighter, a small grin began to from, a look of hunger shining in his dead white eyes. The pulse in his veins was racing, his breath was quickening, synapses were firing in his brain. Somewhere, deep in his mind, he knew that this wasn't right, that he wasn't killing this girl for what she did to his family. No, he wanted revenge, bloody, bloody revenge. 

And more than that. . . he missed this feeling. No matter how much he denied this to himself, deep down, he missed this. The feeling of power, of control, of total domination that could only be obtained when you had another life in your hands. He had discovered this power deep in those dank sewers, and it grew alongside with his desire for vengeance, pushing him deeper and deeper into the darkness of his own heart. 

He wasn't the same as before, when his parents died, when the old man died, when Hiyori died. He had been weak then, but this strength that he had cultivated, this power that he had groomed and perfected. . . it made him strong. This girl's life was now his, and as she struggled pitifully against him, he savored every last bit of this moment, every little breath before the end.

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