[ Aki's the same as always. No outward difference in intonation between instructing her to hold her hand out and telling Denji to keep a devil off the backs of nearby civilians — objectively, she's treating the lesson as she does anything. So there's no reason for Denji's gaze to so keenly stalk what she's doing, the shine in her eyes making it look like she's witnessing the secrets behind a magic trick. The twist of the cap, a wave of her makeup wand, and — there it is. A smear of the liquid concealer gliding up the back of her hand.
Instantly, her brows raise. ]
Woahhh, it's sticky. And you're right, it's the color of my skin! How'd you do that?
[ She turns her wrist back and forth, watching the light shimmer off the streak with a sense of wonder. Then, she wipes her hand clean across her face, leaving a line dragging from one end of her cheek to the other. She doesn't even hit the spot where her zit is. ]
no subject
Instantly, her brows raise. ]
Woahhh, it's sticky. And you're right, it's the color of my skin! How'd you do that?
[ She turns her wrist back and forth, watching the light shimmer off the streak with a sense of wonder. Then, she wipes her hand clean across her face, leaving a line dragging from one end of her cheek to the other. She doesn't even hit the spot where her zit is. ]
So I just put it on like this?