It doesn't hurt, exactly, having the tokoyami spreading outward, eating into skin and bone alike. It might be worse if it did, rather than feeling like-- like nothing. It's not that it doesn't feel like anything, it's nothing, numb and intangible and gone.



Ginko can't even get himself to speak, cold fear tightening in his chest and throat. He takes another shaking step back and presses his hand over his eye, as if that will do any good.