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"They're coming," Hisoka says, and Tatsumi smiles, shadows dripping down the sides of buildings to pool at his feet. Watari tucks his pencils back into his labcoat, shuffles his drawings into his preferred attack order.
Tsuzuki raises his head from the danish he's been gnawing. His teeth are stained red. "Is it the kittens? I like to play with them."
Hisoka nods, tries not to drown in the proximity of Abyssinian's fury. "It's the kittens, but you mustn't play too rough."
"No," Tatsumi murmurs, "not too rough. They're useful yet."
He and Hisoka share a grin.
Weiss round the corner.