AN: I wasn't planning on doing anything more, but was writing when this came to me. I should be done now.
Set before the previous chapter.
Upon entering the cafeteria, silence fell.
The knight glanced up from his boots, meeting the narrowed eyes of his colorful comrades. Had he been a weaker man, he would've bowed his head, turned tail and fled. He was Nero however, and fear was only a taunt in his vocabulary.
"Morning," he called. Not a peep sounded in response. He growled, the sound more beast than human. "What shit is Credo on about?"
Crickets chirped.
Nero rolled his shoulders.
The knight opened his mouth, ready to spill profanity until someone finally mumbled something, but was stopped when a handed landed on his shoulder. He cringed; the hand had landed on his right shoulder.
"Why is your hair pink?" It was Credo.
Oh. That.
"I lost a bet," he muttered.
The cafeteria burst into laughter.