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... und like Shiratamaru?"

The sharp yet familiar voice of Kasumigaoka Utaha sliced through the fog of sleep clouding Yukima Azuma's mind. Blinking against the afternoon light filtering through the curtains, Azuma groaned and sat up from the cold, unforgiving floor. Every muscle ached, his back stiff and sore from a night spent sprawled on hardwood like a discarded futon.

"Sleeping on the floor really is bad for my health," Azuma muttered under his breath, massaging his lower back. < ...

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