Zeno is precious
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"All living things will return to heaven some day," Zeno piped up suddenly; his voice was soft, angelic almost as it slipped from parted lips. Ironically, it was something so undeniably calm that it could subdue the most feral of beasts. If he was honest, he wasn't particularly listening to the conversation at hand. However, he often caught the word "death" circle around the fire. A term that has become rather familiar to Zeno, who, on many occasions, willingly kissed the Grim Reaper.
He could feel the eyes of his companions burn holes into him, and he tried his best not to wriggle under it. Instead, he focused on the fire that roared before his feet. A smile, perfectly crafted through years of experience, crossed his expression. In his peripheral vision, Zeno could spot the grins that reflected.
The conversation dissolved into something else, as it always did. Unfortunately, for Zeno, his mind remained. Usually, he doesn't like to dwell on such a thing as his power, but the topic bobbed on the forefront of his mind. He was aware of it; what came with the blood of Ouryuu. However, in the end, he wanted nothing to do with it. Not anymore.
I'm not human anymore, huh?