[ Muramasa doesn't laugh outright, but the grin he gives Yuta is lopsided, half-apologetic for startling him, half-delighted at the uncharacteristic crassness. After days and days of transforming scrap and charcoal into properly forged blades interspersed with the the small parade of visitors that interrupting his work without good reason, this is at least a well-timed diversion, placed neatly into the small gap of time when a freshly quenched billet needs to rest and accept the shape he's just pounded it into.
His amusement carries over to Geto himself, cutting the harshness of his informal response and the barest acknowledging dip of his head in return for the bow, like an elder speaking to a man who still seems barely older than the boy being teased. ]
And you're Geto. I should have known you'd be another one of those curse weirdos.
[ Now that the big one is gone, he ought to try and keep better track of them, really. There's... what... half a dozen of them? Okkotsu and Itadori he knows well enough to single out, but the others are just a bruise of energy at the edge of his senses. ]
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His amusement carries over to Geto himself, cutting the harshness of his informal response and the barest acknowledging dip of his head in return for the bow, like an elder speaking to a man who still seems barely older than the boy being teased. ]
And you're Geto. I should have known you'd be another one of those curse weirdos.
[ Now that the big one is gone, he ought to try and keep better track of them, really. There's... what... half a dozen of them? Okkotsu and Itadori he knows well enough to single out, but the others are just a bruise of energy at the edge of his senses. ]