This game he was talking about however, Renji wondered to himself if he was the one playing it or he was been controlled by another.
Was he using the Milf Note or was the Note using him?
It was an inconsequential question, he believed. One that held no true answer; at least, no true answer that would change his direction.
It was like the same questions humans asked ourselves. Are we in control of our fate or is God/a god the one leading us to every decision.
With that comparison, he agreed that it truly wasn't something he could bother himself with.
He had chosen this. He had chosen to be the Milf Hunter.
Laughing at the name, Renji dusted off his hands, the last crumbs of takoyaki vanishing as he tossed the skewer into a nearby bin.
The town center's buzz faded behind him as he turned toward the familiar path to the Sunshine Center, his steps purposeful despite the lingering echo of Haru's unexpected question.
