Mutsuki stood in a white combat suit (ie: kind of like Doctor Evil's suit in the Austin Powers movies) with flats. It was far from the pristine shape it was once in: scorch marks, blood, and other signs of battle from the war he was raging through were littered upon the outfit.

He took a fighting stance before the older rugged looking ghoul staring him down. He knew the man was assessing him for what his next move would be and he was hard pressed to do the same. His binder felt especially tight around his chest and his breath came in fast bursts of expelled air.

He felt tired, haggard, and worn out, but he knew he mustn't give up now. The thought of one person in particular gave him strength: Haise Sasaki, his beloved former mentor-the caring and beautifully compassionate man he held quite a fondness for. This, despite him being half ghoul/human, technically his enemy, and having defected and betrayed the Quinx, him... and he killed the one man everyone respected and revered: Arima Kishou. He knew all of this and yet, he couldn't completely hate him for it, one reason being that he had secretly been killing humans himself.

He had overheard some of the more unsavory things Haise had done by way of Koori: refueled his RC count by feasting on the remains of Owl's kakuja after brutally dismembering her, indirectly blaming Urie for Shirazu's death...even the things he did in his rumored past life which included torture...Here he shivered-in delight? in fear? he wasn't sure anymore-and ran his fingers across his shoulders while tapping them, a trait he picked up from Torso.

Also, Sasaki, like Tooru, hid apart of himself from others. He told lies, beautiful lies meant to help and spare his loved ones feelings. The difference was it was for others. Mutsuki lied purely for himself, for his own protection. In a way it kept people at arms length because he feared being abandoned again for his wrongdoings which the cruel world forced him into. He felt that it would all be okay if he was the one who felt more in control of things.

The reason he was waging war against ghouls was partly because they were in the way of him establishing a relationship with his sensei-his beautiful, caring, once adoring sensei. He saw the way Sasaki looked at that woman, er...Touka was it? A kind gaze usually reserved for people you've considered precious to you. He felt that somewhere along the line the woman had somehow won what he had wanted for himself, Sensei's love.

He clenched his knives, visibly shaking, and Yomo gave pause at this. He didn't understand it-why did his Sensei only have eyes for that woman? Why did his feelings for him and his former teammates appear lax whenever she was around. What was so special about her? Was it because she was a normal female and Tooru female at birth who considered himself male by all accounts? Was it because she had never killed anyone as far as he could tell (is: oh, how wrong you are Mucchan) He felt a combination of overwhelming rage at Touka, love for Sasaki, and overall frustration and confusion, with every breath he took.

His Sensei knew the truth about him-minus the murders-as far as he knew. Did he consider him odd for it? Because he was insecure and unstable enough at times to not have a clear mindset/sense of identity? Was it his self loathing he knew was coming off of him in waves like an awful stench? As much as he loved his Sensei, he wondered if he would accept him, knives and all. He felt a growing need to test him-his insecurity, his weakness, told him he must.

He saw the strength of his mentor as something to aspire to. His mind again went to a lighter place as he allowed himself to let go and think of the man he'd come to love. Memories flashed in his mind-that night Sensei pulled an all-nighter in the hunt for Torso and fell asleep on the couch with his uniform still on. He had cherished how content Sasaki had looked sleeping and pulled a blanket over him.

Other memories were vivid too-ones where his sensei tried to get his charges interested in gardening with him (Mutsuki had stifled his laughter before it spewed forth at the silly look on his sensei's face and at his clothing choice)-And the other faces he would make on the regular-determined, serious, soft, concerned, warmth, frustration...that one time Mutsuki glimpsed Haise drenched with sweat with a towel around his neck during a training session...his different outfit choices...that time he was "Sasako"...

Mutsuki pulled at the material of his coat over his binder. He hated his female side, and women and men were a touchy subject for him in general, given his body and what had transpired in the past between him and his father when he was dressed as a girl as evidenced by his scars in addition to his captivity by Torso...But one look at Sasaki by himself and as Sasako with makeup and dressed to the nines...and the time they had together as the Quinx during Cody moments at home...he could definitely make an exception. It was like the family he always wanted.

The feelings he felt for his sensei surged through him as he took a step toward Yomo finally. At the moment, when he thought of Sasaki, all was right with the world just as it had been when he was leading the Quinx.