You know you’ve got it bad when you feel the need to draw your fucking sword inside a funhouse.

Then again, that’s probably commonplace by now. Maybe he’s just a little too old for this kids’ stuff, but he can’t imagine how anyone could even have fun in here.

At least Aoba isn’t watching. At least.

“Fuck.” Okay, they can do this. He’s pretty sure he didn’t break anything—on Shinpachi, anyway. But Koujaku’s on his feet in record time, and looking out into the huge, gaping maw of…that thing’s chest?

“Run the hell away, you—” Bastard dies in his throat as the monster lunges forward. Koujaku takes that split second to stand his ground with his sword upraised aaaaand—