[Matoba gazes down at him, at his face, the youthfulness of it.]
[Three years.]
[It happens slowly. First his stomach, a flinch with a quiet snort. It continues, a movement that rocks his entire core, with snickering breaths. Then his shoulders join in as the laughter bubbles out more clearly, and soon Rokurou's peaceful resting place has turned into an earthquake simulator, jostling his head about freely while his arms grip his sides.]
[A childish, free laughter. No one will ever believe him when he claims to have seen it from the silky, collected Matoba Seiji.]
no subject
[Matoba gazes down at him, at his face, the youthfulness of it.]
[Three years.]
[It happens slowly. First his stomach, a flinch with a quiet snort. It continues, a movement that rocks his entire core, with snickering breaths. Then his shoulders join in as the laughter bubbles out more clearly, and soon Rokurou's peaceful resting place has turned into an earthquake simulator, jostling his head about freely while his arms grip his sides.]
[A childish, free laughter. No one will ever believe him when he claims to have seen it from the silky, collected Matoba Seiji.]