The blood wells up and with it pain. Shion watches it, red against his skin before his eyes flick back up to the other boy's. It hurts but it's not the worst pain he's ever been in. Nezumi would be angry perhaps, your blood is your own. But Nezumi is not here, this is better than Shion hurting someone else. Perhaps that is selfish of him but this boy doesn't seem to be upset, doesn't seem to be panicked at the thought of hurting another.

He glances down again at the letters. He can't read them, he vaguely recognises them. Letters from an ancient language, a writing system not used in No.6? Earlier though the boy had said he was planning on writing in Cyrillic. The name of the language perhaps.

"What... What does it say?"

Curiosity is pushing past fear, he's interested. New knowledge is new knowledge even when it is literally being carved into your skin.