Or that was how Noboru hoped things would play out. But luck rarely seemed to be on his side.
As he was about to take off into the morning, someone behind him stepped on broken glass.
"Sayuri."
Metatron's cold voice sent a shiver down the crow's spine.
"Ma-master," he quickly said as he turned around to look the man he once adored in the eye. The archangel wore a deep red business suit, a matching dark blue pinstripe shirt, and polished black shoes. His hair was neatly combed back. On his wrist, the obscuring wristlet gently glowed.
"I come back to retrieve something I've forgotten, only to find you here." Casually approaching the Tengu, Metatron's fingers caressed Sayuri's cheek.
"Not only have you failed to clean up the mess you made, but you also reek of sweat and sex."
