You see them enter through the back. They look a bit different from what you expect, both a bit shorter, Jun the shorter of the two; they are two aisles away from where you sit, and the shadow and light of the theater are such that it is hard to pick out the finer details of them, but you know Jun by his tattoo, which burns in this sacred place like some demonic sigil, the ink glowing an unearthly red as it reacts to the spirit currents that blow through the theater. You, the audience, are pin-drop silent as the two young warriors are led up the stage, where this moonlit body awaits them.
I need this book to be real so badly
