[ There's something very unique that lashes through the pit of his stomach at the sound of a gun being pulled on him. Mikazuki's every instinct is to strike first before his enemy can get a shot off, but then — this isn't really an enemy, is it? He can't say he completely understands the effects of this place, but he's been subject to plenty of the nature here. Enough to know better.
So he bites down on the split-second heat of adrenaline in his throat, making no move to strike first or put up his hands to indicate he's not a threat. If the other refugee actually shoots, he'll figure it out when he happens. For now, he meets his gaze without fear or curiosity, simply stating: ]
I know you.
[ The other pilot. It seems like a long time ago, now. ]
ii
So he bites down on the split-second heat of adrenaline in his throat, making no move to strike first or put up his hands to indicate he's not a threat. If the other refugee actually shoots, he'll figure it out when he happens. For now, he meets his gaze without fear or curiosity, simply stating: ]
I know you.
[ The other pilot. It seems like a long time ago, now. ]