Sano:
You burn.
Who're you?
You burn.
Nope. Got the wrong guy. I'm just the one bleeding all over the floor.
You have given us back our servant Anji. We will repay you for this.
Repay me?
One has saved your life. One has threatened your life. One awaits your return. One dreads your return.
What're you talking about?
Speak the name.
What?
Speak. The. Name.
-black and brown and green-
…Katsu?
Your eyes are opened.
Katsu. This whole time, it's been him?
Who were you expecting? The doctor?
Nah, guess not. So what'm I supposed t'do now?
Open your eyes.
Katsu:
He pinned the thick paper under the heavy wooden frame and moistened his brush. No gentle watercolours for this one. Only vivid, creamy oils would be appropriate.
First, the outline. Long, gentle strokes of warm black to trace the figure's edges. Boundaries, so essential for balance, must be established early.
Next, the slow, precise in-fill. Every centimeter of the form must be tended to, with care taken not to cross any of the still-damp lines.
Finally, highlights, slapped on with jagged flicks of the wrist, style replacing accuracy.
Perfection.
The wet headband gleamed bloodily as Katsu wiped his hands clean.