He'd inherited many things from his mother.
He'd inherited his colouring, the peculiar silver blond of his hair, the delicate fairness of his skin and decidedly un-Japanese ash grey of his eyes.
He'd inherited his insanity. Well, that one was debatable. If Saki was any indication, madness might well be a trait on both sides. His habit of viewing people as if they were inanimate objects was definitely from her side though.
The only things he'd inherited that he had any love for, however, were the small, porcelain bodies in their velvet and satin lining the shelves on the walls.
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