His hand hit the light-switch, illuminating the room. Tsuna blinked. A dark brown carpet, beige walls, a bed and a- wait. Only one bed? He squeaked.

The dead fell. The dead fell, and Gendry’s heart was racing, pounding so hard inside of his chest that he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Silence crept across the courtyard and the sound of his heart beating only got louder. Puffs of air left his lips in tiny, gasping breaths as he stared down at the mountain of bodies below. Next to him, Tormund, the ginger wildling who had somehow wound up next to him atop the heap, spun in a circle, surveying. Across the courtyard, Gendry could hear someone shout, “What is this?” “Is this a trick?” Someone else responded. “He did it,” Tormund breathed. His voice was as soft as a whisper. Gendry turned to him, his heart still pounding in his chest and his fingers still wrapped around his hammer so tightly that he could seldom tell where his skin began and the shaft ended. Tormund’s blue eyes turned to him, wide, joyous. “That bloody crow did it.” Gendry couldn’t speak.

Shang Qinghua has made certain oversights. He never, in any of his escape plans, accounted for the presence of his bro. And so, like a cornered animal would, Shang Qinghua bares his teeth. It should have been a warning, but the demon just laughs.

There are plenty of fabricated stories about Dirtyhands and the Wraith. Kaz and Inej don't mind making up a few more. Five times Kaz and Inej lie about how they met, and one time they don't.