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Yuta couldn't help but feel violated with the way the small bear on Mark's shoulder was facing him.

In the place of vital facial features, such as eyes and a mouth - which would have helped greatly to decipher what he was thinking - was nothing but a few folds of white towel, but much to Yuta's dismay, it was a somehow menacing arrangement.

Mark lead the three of them around the small town until they reached the seaside. Although the temperature had dropped quite cold, the promenade was full of people walking up and down with loved ones.

Speaking of loved ones and couples, Mark had half the mind to reach out and connect their hands again, but he decided that moment was over thanks to a certain, soggy, rude cleaning supply.

Suddenly, the witch stopped in his tracks, and Pani twisted to look ahead. Whilst the Japanese was glad the dishcloth had other business to attend, he picked up on the furrow of Mark's brow.

"My head..."

Yuta's eyes widened. Mark having a headache or any slight discomfort was more likely than not to be due to an upcoming mishap, and so much like the bear was doing, he span around to try and locate the cause of Mark's sudden throbbing.

It took a moment, but Yuta soon saw it. "There," he said, his hand pointing a distance in front of them at a small crowd that had formed around a group of teenagers on bikes.

Mark nodded, turning the other way. He was about to walk off, but he suddenly held his head in his hands and froze. "No that's not it. It's in this direction. S-Something else... where?"

But he could see what it was as soon as he opened his eyes.

A man, at least twice their ages, had fallen to the ground in a lifeless bundle, startling a woman by his side. Yuta's kind heart urges him forward to assist, but when Mark grabbed his wrist, he stayed put.

And when the man immediately woke up and got to his feet, there was very clearly something wrong. It was evident in his uneven step and in his darkened eyes, and it brought a quiver to those around him.

"That's a possession," Mark helpfully announced, his headache popping clear. He had seen this kind of behaviour and felt this sense of unease before, when he was trapped in the coven and forced to do unspeakable things to unsuspecting villagers. Mark swallowed. "There's a witch inside him."

Yuta stared at the man dusting himself off and pushing his way through the crowd. "Witches can do that? You can do that? ...You haven't thought about doing to me, right?"

The Canadian shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "No. I'd never use someone like that, but that's if I was even able to. Only one witch I know can do that. Only one, frustratingly capable witch can teach himself any curse within a matter of moments, no matter the difficulty or life risks."

The arm of the man lifted and waved at them, and with a big smile on his face, he began to close in on them.

The Japanese scoffed, heart thudding. He hated being chased - even if it had never happened before. The thought was enough to scare him. Now, he bounced on his toes, preparing to turn and lengthen the narrowing gap "Does Lucien have nothing better to do?"

"Other than make my life a living hell? No."

Was that a lie? As far as he was concerned, Lucien's entire existence revolved around Mark's discomfort - and, more common than not, his desire to torture him.

Directed by Mark, the three of them hurried away from the seaside and into a more cluttered area of the town. When they came to a quiet street, they slowed to catch their breaths.

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