One thousand years, give or take.
Could our connection even still be considered like that of a family?
When I first met him, I was astounded. That boy, it was plain to see that he didn't fear what he had so suddenly become: a monster, a Mazoku.
One day, I heard one of my underlings ask him how he dealt with the change, and the boy said: 'Why would I waste my time denying what I really am? It's not like I could make it any different anyway.'
I distinctly remember wondering if he knew exactly what being part Mazoku entailed. I've got this feeling that he didn't even have to think about it.
Now, here I am, seated on this damn rock where the boy just left me for dead. No doubt to confront straight away Yomi or Mukuro with some not so idiotic plan.
So I ponder the reason why I'm still wallowing in self-pity, destroying my body and waiting for the chance to see her again… when I know she would only mock me for the useless pain I inflict upon me. Because it's just that: useless pain, when hers never was. What would she think of this weak shell of myself?
It took him barging into my land with eyes full of contempt for me to understand that. The boy with eyes like hers, while he doesn't crave human flesh, was willing just a moment ago to hunt human beings to make me eat again. He found me pathetic, and he wanted a real fight. Should I give him one?
I crack one eye open when a particular scent hit my sensitive nose. Now is the time to move; after all, that human certainly is not going to eat itself.
Is that headstrong boy family? No. Is he mine? Oh yes.
Bon appétit.