Tastumi Oga is badassery personified. He dispatches demons with a flick of his wrist, endures the young master's temper tantrums and tolerates Furuichi on a regular basis. But Hilda can't get why he has to spend hours banging on a hunk of plastic making the little people on the screen beat the snot out of each other.
He tries to explain it once, his eyes glazing over like connoisseur appreciating the finer things in life. She has seen the Queen wear a similar look once after dining in one of Demon World's finest restaurants but she can't understand the connection between slow-roasted human eyeballs and pixelated blobs of colour.
Misaki simply shakes her head when she asks her about this strange behaviour. "Boys will be boys" she says, her tone coloured with a wealth of experience in dealing with the behaviour of the foreign species. "No one can understand what sort of sick amusement they can get from watching fictional people bow to their whims."
But even after this explanation, Hilda still is not convinced and the older Oga sibling gives her a smile when she notices the slight furrow in her brow.
"Don't worry too much about it!" Misaki cries patting her heartily on her back and leading her away to the living room. "Let Tatsumi manipulate the little people on the screen. It's almost time for our show! Sakura should totally leave Kenji, don't you think?"
A/n Born of my little sister's sudden addiction to video games.
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