CLOSED SIGNUPS Two Times, One Sword (Closed)

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The black hand print around his neck was like a permanent tattoo, consistently squeezing at Yori's throat, as if his torturer was still there, holding his hand in place.

"What's your name?" said Kimaru. Yori's eyes darted around as his head remained staring upward. He couldn't tell how long it had been, as he could only smell cigarette smoke. Yori wheezed, but said nothing. Kimaru breathed out through his nose and smoke came out if his nostrils like dragon fire. He stood up, strolled towards Yori, and placed both hands above his eyes. Yori could feel both of his eyes suddenly burn as black ink as covered his eyes and the areas immediately around them. He screamed again, louder this time than around the neck. Everything became pitch black, and he was on the cusp of being rendered mad.

"Your name." Kimaru growled.
"Justice." Yori said.
Yori was the word for justice, Kimaru knew. Not that the name mattered. The Goddess would know the real article from a fake without the man giving a concrete answer.
"What were you doing with Hiroki?"
"Karaoke night."
"Yes, I was there. Why were you with Hiroki?"
"There's an evil." said Yori. "A greater evil." Yori clarified. He wheezed and laughed at the same time. Kimaru shrugged, checked his energy was still being drained from him, and the black tattoos were still doing their work, shrugged and sat back down. Inches.