Sanzo watched as he picked up the cigarette butt, toying with it. Ever since he'd come in, Takasugi's attention had been partially on it, as if drawn. It was small, but it was enough to read that much into the patient. He was all too familiar with what it was like to be away from cigarettes, the nicotine. Despite Takasugi's near flawless control, there was that craving there.

Was it unusual to project feelings onto others? Fuck yes. Sanzo was a firm believer of not involving himself in other people's shit. It was a pain in the ass, and he wasn't interested. The monk scowled back at him. This wasn't looking good. It was like he was dealing with a combination of Hakkai and Homura. As if it wasn't bad enough he had to keep an eye out for the war god. Takasugi represented something that could be potentially even more dangerous.

"I'm not interested in how you get your kicks," Sanzo said flatly. " I'm not going to play your mind games."