[ Relief flashes across John's face, and he takes Akechi's left hand with his own. There is something wrong with his pinky: past the first knuckle it is dark and smooth as polished wood, fused to the flesh with an unsettling tracery of black roots. In the moment, John doesn't think to worry about it. He's too pleased to be having an introduction. ]
John Doe, then. [ There is no trace of irony in the name. If anything, he sounds proud. ] It is good to meet you, Akechi.
no subject
John Doe, then. [ There is no trace of irony in the name. If anything, he sounds proud. ] It is good to meet you, Akechi.