[ at least it isn't too long after that before the ritual happens. someone had had to deal with a very drunk and guilt-ridden manslayer as he'd needed a partner to do it with. it's hard to tell if he passes out for as long as he does because of the booze or because his magic had been drained, but it's long enough that he's out through the night and only wakes up the next morning. with the sun out, he only realises it's morning because his phone tells him it is. the bartender sends him off with a little something for the road — likely just to get izō to finally leave — and it helps take the edge off a threatening hangover and the feeling of dread about going home.
the key feels heavy in his hand when he pulls it out of his pocket and he ends up hovering on the front step for a long time again. without the issue of the curse izō knows he has nothing to worry about anymore, so it's frustrating to be hesitating at all. he finally sucks it up and lets himself in.
he moves silently without realising he's doing it, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. he'd had a practical application for it as an assassin but had developed his skill at it a long time before he ever took on that role — it's just what you do when you're trying to be as unobtrusive a presence as possible. izō is just going to need time to re-adjust like he had when they'd first started sharing the room. he'd done it then too.
reconsidering his original idea to just go up to his room, he goes out the back instead. the lack of sun is not an issue since there's already a lantern because he's too old-fashioned about some things to fully convert to using a flashlight. plus, it's nice on damp, chilly mornings. izō is really not feeling it and the hens, perceptive as they are, can tell. they don't even give him a hard time like they usually do, because they usually have no qualms about scolding him for being weirdly awake at dawn because he'd just come home drunk or feeding them late because he'd slept most of the day away. they do ask him questions, but they're simple questions. they don't really care about magical problems — or if they do, they aren't pressing for details — but want to know about other things. what the animals are saying. he'll just let ryouma find him there if he wants to, sitting on the back steps with the birds in his lap. izō listens to them chatter away while they keep him company — not that he'd admit that he needed some, even to chickens. ]
i'm not emo about birds or anything
the key feels heavy in his hand when he pulls it out of his pocket and he ends up hovering on the front step for a long time again. without the issue of the curse izō knows he has nothing to worry about anymore, so it's frustrating to be hesitating at all. he finally sucks it up and lets himself in.
he moves silently without realising he's doing it, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. he'd had a practical application for it as an assassin but had developed his skill at it a long time before he ever took on that role — it's just what you do when you're trying to be as unobtrusive a presence as possible. izō is just going to need time to re-adjust like he had when they'd first started sharing the room. he'd done it then too.
reconsidering his original idea to just go up to his room, he goes out the back instead. the lack of sun is not an issue since there's already a lantern
because he's too old-fashioned about some things to fully convert to using a flashlight. plus, it's nice on damp, chilly mornings. izō is really not feeling it and the hens, perceptive as they are, can tell. they don't even give him a hard time like they usually do, because they usually have no qualms about scolding him for being weirdly awake at dawn because he'd just come home drunk or feeding them late because he'd slept most of the day away. they do ask him questions, but they're simple questions. they don't really care about magical problems — or if they do, they aren't pressing for details — but want to know about other things. what the animals are saying. he'll just let ryouma find him there if he wants to, sitting on the back steps with the birds in his lap. izō listens to them chatter away while they keep him company — not that he'd admit that he needed some, even to chickens. ]