"There's more than we could ever use, on the train, in various people's ARMs bands, with more probably being brewed up by half a dozen people even now."

The ready availability of potions has had no impact on Koumyou's recklessness, of course.

"And Dev keeps stuffing more of them in here. Pretty sure if I get hurt badly enough he's planning to just marinade me in them. Or waterboard me with them. Both?"

Koumyou huffs a little sigh at that, his doting fiance is a bit much sometimes.

"Honestly, the lack of danger in most instances makes this all feel a lot less real to me, you know? If something doesn't kill you, someone will fix you immediately with these or with magical abilities and it's just... weird. Like living in a cottonball.

"I honestly don't even take them unless Devero insists. I'm just insisting for you because of all the salt."

Rather than funnelling enough of the fucking things down his son's throat to make the whole wound probably fuck off. If Genjo didn't puke them back up first.

"I really don't like them for most things."